free stuff by Ryan Eckes


jesus didn’t want to be

a white cop millionaire


shake my hand, he says,

work w/ me


call swamp thing’s office

right now


watch yourself on tv

fall down


what kind of hall of fame

is this, everyone crying


bosses like to die in poems

so write them




never thank a democrat

for anything


we’re not supposed to be

raped and killed


old trip, starved star, no it—all things

tremble w/ blood


“get a life!”

says a pigeon sandwich


to some activists pulling

the poor out the police


for life


who do you protect

who do you serve


a nazi crawls into the e.r. begging

for free stuff


broken windows, teeth of nation

in street, rain—water we can’t