mad graffiti



E. R. Smith, 2018

Throwed up the sour crux of the matter

Call me vandal, huh? Where’s your plan for me?

Infrastructure F–Ked up since my pop’s feet pattered

Demographics show me last on the list….maybe, we’ll see..


This battered wall, reminds of  vivid existence

Slapped woke, retaliating for unprovoked focused pain

This passive palette, path of least resistance

Styling a marching movement, more than for ihe slain


World  peep gifts possible in all!  Nourish satiate the multitudes

Burning bombs on the wall bleed, crimes of exclusion

Artists fists lash out; violent pigments glow, unchecked attitudes

Opportunities for the red blood born,  won’t suffer occlusion





Emmm…You Smell That?

You know that don’t smell right, does it?

Not all us included in the budget?

Smells stink, like a pond full of bodies.

No body to bury no body.

You know that don’t smell right, don’t you?

Awww… smells from right out the pores ewww!

Like old urine on the bodies of outcasts.

You know those who live and sleep with rats.

Just know that don’t smell right, it don’t!

Can’t bleach it away, it’s in the ozone!

Really need to get rid of this smell and fast.

Air it out in the sun, ‘fore breakfast.

You know we know what to do with what don’t smell right.

Search all up and down til its in sight.

Hands and knees, elbows out for the good fight

Won’t stop til you put this putrid blight right.

©2017 E. R. Smith

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