Samuel’s Anointed

 

Race-baiting covers for agit-prop agents
splitting white hairs in their dark distress;
with name-calling, bullying, lunch money payments
and shifting the blame for their people’s mess.

Reparations are due for your boring screed
that you scrawled at the helm of the Black Star Liner.
You owe it to those who were forced to read
your obtuse agitations (you Afro-whiner).

Poisonous shout-outs to fallen comrades:
holy Saint Michael in reaper’s hood—
endless blathering racial tirades
poor comrade—your dreams are misunderstood.

You’re obsessed with injustice. That’s nothing new.
You’re a David anointed to overthrow Saul—
(as long as he’s white and less rabid than you,
oh prophet and scribe of the activist call…)

Stay mad at the system. Revile all your foes
with raving, with preaching, with bitter bad words.
Insult all your enemies; list all your woes
as you document stink on your turds.

 

 

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Mother Hubbard

Old Mother Hubbard
Went to the cupboard,
To give her poor dog a cracker;
When she came there,
The cupboard was bare,
And none of her people would back her.

She rode on her Harley
To sound the alarm;
When she came back
Her rant was still warm!

She posted a YouTube
To challenge the masses;
When she came back
They had covered their asses.