How do you like them apples now? I hear
The anthem being taken up. And yet
The tune is faint and easy to forget
If panic has not stuck it in your ear,
Or drummed it down into your bones, or lodged
It in the antechambers of your heart,
Reminding you, should revolution start,
There can be just so many bullets dodged.
How do you like them apples now? we said,
And swift was the response: Only a few,
A few bad apples—but their aim was true
The night that she was murdered in her bed.
Our cry goes out to jury, judge, and jailer:
Convict the cops who killed Breonna Taylor.
15 June 2020