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JUSTICE (Revised) Jiving Jason smoked first-class grass and hung out in the hood with his homeys. He was a bad actor, failing to factor in the uncool rules of his probation. Every month his probation officer tried motivational means to persuade jaded Jason to register at rehab and not to shirk work but he sang the worn, weary song about his torn, dreary childhood. Talented, he wrote poems with a hip-hop hum about hunger when younger, homelessness, his 'ho, his roaming peers; another about his drug-dealing mother and the violence he'd seen in his seventeen years. Compared to his family and friends who sat hunched over their crack pipes, Jason saw his need for weed as ordinary, ho-hum, a type of sport in the hood-dom. Last week with style and grace, he landed a place at the Blue Moon Diner and enrolled in the Gold Drug Program, none finer. The same day, his judge signed a capias for the poet's arrest for probation violation. Now he's in jail, no bond, nothing: no show from his hapless 'ho nor from his homeys and he's singing the terse second verse of the same worn, weary song, all night long... but no one is listening. |
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