© July 28, 2021, the Griot Poet
Officer Dunn didn’t mince words,
Avoided using the sanitized “n-word”:
He used nigger,
In all the vileness and violence it meant,
By those who didn’t stifle their tongues using it on him,
The first time someone called me that,
Was by a dime-store Sears Santa,
“Shut up, and take the picture, nigger,”
I was seven,
That was the moment I became agnostic about the Santa Claus
myth,
It was a year before I told my mom and dad about the incident,
“I just don’t want to see Santa anymore,” I said,
Before tears doubled me over in dread,
They consoled me, but
Too late for them to have taken any action on it,
It is a word steeped in history,
It is an epithet of violence,
Violence at that moment
Was done to my innocence:
I ceased being a child then,
Soon after,
I read my first science book by Carl Sagan, “The Cosmic
Connection,”
Saying it was impossible for a “jolly old elf” at 99% the
speed of light,
To visit every “good girl and boy” in the scant
Hours from Christmas Eve to Christmas Day,
Sealing in my mind Kris Kringle’s fate,
The hitman,
Laid out his intent,
In his violent campaign rallies,
Telling his followers to “knock the crap out of them,”
Lying he’d bail them out of prison,
In his inaugural “American Carnage” rant,
Lying about his crowd size,
30,000+ obfuscations during his dysfunctional dystopia,
600,000+ COVID casualties since,
Callously trying to conjure realities that don’t exist,
Foppish orange clown makeup,
Combover dead ferret toupee,
A body mass index
Beyond grotesque,
His easy racism made it stylish,
For his fellow fascists,
To crawl out from under their rocks,
For decades whose shade like fungus they festered in,
They knew “trickledown” was bullshit,
When the B-Movie actor from “Bedtime for Bonzo” coined it,
Launching his presidential campaign
Blocks away from the site where,
Cheney, Goodman, and Schwerner,
Civil Rights workers registering voters,
All murdered by klansmen,
J. Edgar Hoover’s FBI did nothing to protect them,
Yet, a closeted man and open racist to Martin, Malcolm, and
Medgar,
J. Edgar has a federal building named after him,
The hitman,
Went to war with the same administrative state,
The FBI, CIA, NSA, et al.,
He was supposed to be in charge of,
He recognized the former Grand Old Party,
For what it truly is:
A criminal enterprise masquerading as a political party,
Fighting voter fraud that doesn’t exist,
Aligned more with grand dragons,
That would rather steel elections than win them,
The same KKK who left my wife’s grandfather, “Paw-Paw,”
Beaten, bloodied and broken,
On a Shreveport, Louisiana road,
For the “sin” in their twisted minds of voting,
The fact Paw-Paw was a minister didn’t matter,
So were Martin and Malcolm,
The next year,
Paw-Paw went BACK and voted again!
The former Grand Old Party,
Max Boot defines as a “gang of Putin,”
The foppish clown instinctively knew that the masses,
Were through with “genteel racism,”
Thinktank talking points,
Moderate fascism,
Their hatred was on full display,
During the eight years of the Obama administration,
“Obamacare” became a curse word,
DACA became pejorative,
Screaming at children on buses at the Texas-Mexico border,
Preceded putting them in cages,
Their church pews due to hypocrisy emptying,
They lost the argument against same-sex marriage,
If the LGBT community is affecting your heterosexual marriage,
ONE of you is closet,
He denied the reality of,
Climate change,
The pandemic,
Along with his loyal minions,
Add that to their death statistics,
Just like they deny the shift in demographics,
Anything they don’t like:
Science,
Elections,
History,
Poetry,
Reality,
They want to be canceled, or erased,
Hypocritically complaining about “cancel culture” in the same
breath,
Once you make fellow humans “others,”
Murder is the next logical step,
It’s why German’s slept peacefully,
While Auschwitz and Dachau ovens belchged,
Any ashes on their doorsteps,
They conveniently swept away with the trash,
The only book he’s ever read,
According to his first immigrant wife, Ivana,
The sequel to Hitler’s “Mein Kamph,”
A tome of speeches called “My New Order,”
He admired the Fuhrer’s inflections,
His mastery of Marconi technology,
And the size of his crowds,
Driven mad by hatred and xenophobia,
Before he started ubiquitously using the term “fake news,”
His brown shirts in the streets were already shouting “Lugen
Presse,”
To ABC, CBS, CNN, MSNBC, NBC,
A mulligan to Fox Propaganda,
My AI won’t let me type “news” after their salutation,
Dumb Bart, Misinfo Wars, News Min, and QAN,
Minimarts for proto-fascists,
Alex Jones needs to shut the fuck up,
Before he’s selling vitamins in Huntsville, Texas,
A hitman sent them,
To “stop the steal,”
Like trickle-down economics doesn’t exist,
"Cyber Ninjas" after months of audit could find ZERO evidence,
It was too many of those “others” voting,
Plus, no one’s buying their bullshit,
That’s their real problem with electoral politics,
They’ve lost the popular vote in seven out of eight
presidential elections,
Stevie Wonder can see where this is heading,
So, they’d rather make it harder for “others” to exercise
The franchise,
Rather than moderate their message,
But reality doesn’t matter,
If, in the end, you wrest power,
From the majority of citizens who voted against you,
To maintain a hierarchy of hate,
Democracy is what they’re warring against,
A hitman sent them,
And like every criminal investigation,
We must follow the evidence where it leads,
Subpoena witnesses, and if they refuse to show,
Incarcerate them,
For our democratic experiment to continue to exist,
A Russian proverb says, “a fish rots from the head,”
We eventually have to indict and arrest the kingpin fascist!
