THE MURDER OF ALEX PRETTI

Salute this dead man,
An American,

A veterans’ nurse,
A corpse in a hearse,

A hiker, a son,
Another life done,

Killed like Renee
Good, blasted away.

He was shot ten times,
And what were his crimes?

A phone in one hand,
A principled stand,

Never told to freeze,
Just sent to his knees.

He got in the way
Of ICE the wrong day.

His blood, your blood, ours:
Food for the powers.