08/01/2026
Above the Law
They wear the badge of order,
but move like ghosts between statutes,
hands clean only because no one is allowed to check.
ICE doesn’t knock.
It arrives as procedure,
as paperwork that bleeds.
Courts become decorations.
Due process, a rumor.
Rights, a suggestion that got lost in transit.
They say it’s safety.
They say it’s borders.
They say it’s necessary.
But necessity doesn’t shred families at dawn.
It doesn’t turn homes into evidence bags.
It doesn’t erase people by calling them “cases.”
When the law bends only one way,
it isn’t law anymore.
It’s choreography for cruelty.
And when an agency stands above the rules it enforces,
it is no longer enforcement.
It is occupation.
