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In Nicaragua
Oliver North
murdered children and schoolteachers,
& he's now on T.V.
military adviser
or some-such,

In Afghanistan
Barack Obama dropped a bomb from a drone
killing dozens from a wedding party,
& he's still president
of some-such,

In Iraq
Bush and Cheney
slaughtered thousands,
one's still out
shooting ducks
or some-such,
one's still grinning
while painting dogs
and vacuous,
infantile
portraits,

In New York
Mr Eric Garner
stood out on the street
selling loose cigarettes
by one's or two's
& he was grappled
to the ground
& then
chocked
to death.
In God's American heaven
all the Krishnas,
Ivans & Nadias,
get to wait in line
like sorry-*** out-of-towners
hoping for a good night out,

while the Americans,
granted extra
special consideration
by right of birth
& all that is great
& mighty about
this unique land,

just get waved on through
by God's golden bouncers,
straight on in
like hot girls
& dazzling boys
at the club
of the
moment
in the dazzling
L.A. night.
White Knights
like to dress up
all hooded & ****
with slit-eyes and
pointy tops
to their
sheet-thing

& they come out
when its real dark
& burn stuff
& parade all around
shadowed bonfire-lit
in secluded fields
like lost
& deluded
drooling idiots,

they think they
walk the walk
& feel real fine
& fancy
with their grand wizard
lord of this & that
& pathetic hokey redneck
power-tripping
*******,

but lord no!
white knights
ride no gallant steeds
possess no magic
potions
have nothing
but a desperation
born of impotence
& sullen
bitter & imagined
loss.

white folks grandeur!
oh spare me so,
from evil
in its many disguises
& from very real
& dangerous men
hood-less
brazen
& right there
in front of us.
Did you see it?
That brother can do it
oh yes indeed he can,

like a young trout at dusk,
in a sweet still lake,
like a pouncing cheetah,
from many yards out,
like Wille May in the outfield,
for a soaring high ball,
like the most monstrous of great whites
rising from the dark depths & exploding
out of the ocean seal prey all clenched
in its merciless jaws,

like a cobra after transfixing its quietened mark,
like the most glorious of lithe pole vaulters,
like the most dandy of sweet young gymnasts,
like the great bull Magic Johnson springing over all & slam
dunkin' that rocketed ball as the whole court is helpless & the
people rock & its more points on that board,
that brother did it

just tore that Southern Hate right on out
of their White Pride hands,
brother just plain did it.
Hmmnn ... lets see,
how about a simple disgust
at opulent luxury,
... there's a start,

oh ... & many roomed massive mansions
with heliports & tennis-courts,
that too perhaps you're
not down with,

& million dollar wedding rings &
3 million dollar nuptial feasts,
tiger medicines, rhinceros horns,
elephant foot ash-trays &
private zoos with leopards
for the pleasure of the
near sated man who
needs everything,

& 5 million dollar automobiles,
pate, foie-gras, shark-fin soup,
gold faucets in your bathroom,
& gold seats for you to rest
your so sweet golden
*** on,

penthouse suites overlooking Harlem,
cigar-chomping industrialists loosening
their waistcoats after a heavy steak
dinner over which they've carved up
a portion of what is rightfully
others by birth & right,

hundreds of thousands of dollars
tickets for a seat by the boss,
so's you may get the chance
to whisper your pleadings
& caress his oh so mighty
ego,

pipelines across sacred lands,
Christian hypocrites, wealthy churches,
Catholic debauchery, Evangelical
preachers, replicas of Noah's Ark,
sweat lodge motivational hucksters,
Rolls Royce gurus,
ancient Southern hate
& men in white hoods,

taking a look around,
paying attention,
choosing,
& then signing up.
Like a toothpick on a mammoth river,
I have no say in where I’ll go.
I think I know where I’ll end up.

A tiny sliver on a massive torrent-
I will not sink, though I may tangle
With another floating twig  

And find me carried in its direction
Whether that be to the salty ocean
Or washed up on a riverbank.

I’ll fetch up where the current puts me-
There’s no arguing with life
Or the mighty Columbia River.
ljm
Life too often refuses to give me the final say.
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