Blazon for My Cyborg, and: "She who aims with her hand has forgotten the face of her father", and: Officer of the Year, and: Diversity Training

Blazon for My Cyborg

Found poem sourced from Dark Tower III: The Waste Lands by Stephen King

sullen cores of blue lightflambeaux of the modern age

stubby mechanical legs pistoning up and downlike a turtle trying to walk uphill on a piece of glass

teeth; they looked like sewing-machine needles, blurringpouty go-to-hell mouth

worming sharp little fingersa little haughty, a little naughty

his own private hand-held thunderstormshowering a cloud of rust down between his boots

"She who aims with her hand has forgotten the face of her father"

Found poem, in the form of a golden shovel, sourced from Dark Tower III: The Waste Lands by Stephen King

Sustained a number of small scratches crawling but she—quiet as a ghost or possibly even malevolent aliens wholed the revolt which toppled the world—now aimsto pull the lanyard. Hoptedoodle! She grimaces withpleasure like a cheerleader, hermuscular thighs    hard brown bosom    sawdusty handspiralling up into a blameless blue sky in a world that hasmoved on    where all is forgottenin the halls of the dead in the firelight    in thesoft black soil    of her dark, beautiful face:that fabulous brain    a heavy-handed cuteness ofgold-rimmed eyes    reflectionized    echoing hervoice singing some great open chord: the voice of all fathers, her father.

Officer of the Year

"The police officer in McKinney, Tex., who resigned after a cellphone video was circulated showing him shoving a black teenager in a bikini to the ground outside a pool party offered an apology Wednesday through his lawyer, who tried to explain the officer's actions by saying that he was under stress. … Corporal Casebolt [was] a 10-year veteran of the department who was once named its Officer of the Year."

—New York Times, June 10, 2015

I need the whole story before I can say a child is being hurt. I need the whole story before I can say you hurt her. I need the whole story before I can say she hurts. I need the whole story before her hurt is real to me. I need the whole story before I can say she is a child. I need the whole story before I can say she is my child our child somebody's child. I need the whole story before I can say he hurt her in a place where a person hurts if you hurt them. I need the whole story before I can say he threw her to the ground. I need the whole story before I can say he put his knees into her back to hold her down. I need the whole story before I can say how green the grass was underneath where he hurt her. I need the whole story before I can say she was barefoot in a bikini and he was uniformed, bootshined, armed. I need the whole story before I can say her swimsuit was the color of a country on fire. I need the whole story before I can say he pulled a gun. I need the whole story before I can say the gun was loaded. I need the whole story before I can say guns kill people & people kill people & cops kill people & black people are people. I need the whole story before I can say the white children stood on the other side of the street where the grass was the same green. I need the whole story before I can hear him say "sit your asses down." I need the whole story before I can hear him say it only to the black boys. I need the whole story before I can hear the black boys say "sir please sir." I need the whole story before I can see him tell the black girls to walk away from the sitting-their-asses-down black boys. I need the whole story before I can see the...