For Philando Castile

Poem for Philando Castile by Greg Powell

(Pulled over by cop. Executed in car. Cop exonerated.)

Picture me rolling
I don’t stop
Hands tense the wheel
I see a cop
Slow to the limit
Pressure drop
Don’t want to be no
Strange fruit crop

Sick of this shit
400 years 400 tears
400 fears them
Muthafuckers
400 years in arrears
But we ain’t gonna get paid
Until the devil get slayed
The predators get preyed
Wicked leaders get frayed
From these lyrics I made

I get to gun store
The store got more
Nigguhs than ever before
I implore you go get yours
In case they smash in doors
Stay on the peace course
But arm for civil wars
They should’ve settled the shit
The first time. That’s why
I drop dimes
Power of ten rhymes
Tales of our times
My existence is a crime
Sentence is choked breath
To the last death
Stolen wealth stressed health
Would’ve all died if
We hadn’t pressed through duress
Held screams in our breasts
Made do with less
Yet still impress
By still being blessed
To be the best

Picture me rolling
I don’t stop
Hands tense the wheel
I see a cop
Slow to the limit
Pressure drop
Don’t want to be no
Strange fruit crop

Stop at grocery store
Purchase some more
Skittles and juice
Feeling good and loose
Back in the car
Home ain’t far
But might as well
Be light years away
Because this ain’t my day
Death lights flashing
The dashboard crashing
Through window splashing
Into brain matter splatter
My skull about to shatter
No witnesses gathered
Adrenalin rage I’m lathered
Weaponized cell set to record
Take killer cop off the board
Blue mad hatter gun to driver side
I consign myself to genocide
Ain’t nowhere to hide
I grip piece holstered to side
Prepare for murder suicide
I roll down window
With death defying pride
And devil in blue ride
Smiles like a man who died
Like a man whose child cried
Whose wife about to cry tonight
And says: sir please fix your tail light.