POEM FOR MY MIDDLE FINGER

by Susan Vespoli

with a nod to Catherine Pierce’s protest poems

“Fuck Authority” by Dan Colen, 2006, Oil on found painting

In protest I watch eight cops 

unload from their SUV, then strut

past me, a small granny with teal luggage 

waiting at the airport for a ride. 

In protest I say Beefcake. 

Fitted khaki pants and black polo 

shirts decaled with the word Police. 

Guns strapped to each man’s thigh 

with dark bands. In protest I say garter belts. 

In protest I say (in my head) I know 

what you did to my son. I saw the body 

cam. In protest, I glare. Puffed out chests 

and cocky swagger. In protest I say 

Mr. America patrol. I say rooster 

and remember the one that attacked 

my granddaughter at the peacock park. 

We thought it was a soft striped hen 

with a red mohawk until it high-kicked

its claws into her scalp. Blood spurted 

as she shrieked. In protest I say pull it in, 

dudes. Fold those football-player-sized egos

into cloth napkins at a memorial service. 

In protest I say humble. I say karma. I say

apologize. I want to scream, you don’t scare me, 

but remember my other kid saying, watch out, Mom. 

You’re gonna get yourself in trouble. In protest 

I say fuck Superman. I say fuck cultural authority. 

I bow down to sky, birds, dogs, poems, and peace.

Susan Vespoli lives in Phoenix, Arizona where she continues to write toward finding some sort of justice for her son, Adam Vespoli, who was shot and killed by police on March 12, 2022.

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