one day, I looked out my window, and I see this dude. white guy with tattoos but no shirt and only one shoe. walking down the center of the street.
i live in a corner of a notorious neighborhood. my corner is the good side by all accounts. the other side is nicknamed "felony flats" and probably other negatives. the city I live in has a few bad neighborhoods and this is generally considered one of the few that you might get shot in.
so I see this guy and I know he needs help, and I want to call 911 but I'm conflicted because half of my internal dialogue is that the cops are going to kill him
i didn't call. because even though he's clearly a danger to himself, he wasn't threatening anyone else
I think of that dude a lot
this is powerful poetry
Thank you for sharing