 |
| Ibragim Todashev |
By Malik Sekou OSEI
The Dance of Trader Row, The Ticking Clock of History, During the Sterile Dance of Non-existence Citizenship
They
Dance of the
trader's
row
God Bless
America's
New
Niggers
As the guardians
of this fame democracy move and
tap their
steel
toe
boots,
watching
Saturday Morning
cartoons,
of America's most loyal Red Tails
of Tuskegee,
history...
God Bless America's New Niggers
As
the thinking people
morn...
Where the
FBI
Comes
to
your house
to
dance
and
leave a bullet
in the
top of
their
Mutha-fuckin
head...
God Bless America's
New
niggers...
They
speak with
an
accents
of
I
love
America,
with funny
names like
Ibragim Todashev
No more names
like
Buba,
No more names
like
Fanny-Lou
No more names
like
Sonny-Roy
No more names
like
Blue-Blue
A day
of
needed
reflection
of karate
trained
Chechnyans
who
don't
know
know
their
mutha-fukin
place
Their remembrance
of
non-existence
marathon
of
the
BART
Where the
uniformed
guardians
of
democracy
shoot
"an"
unarmed
passenger
handcuff
and
leave
a
bullet
in the back of an head.
God Bless
the New
Niggers
of
trader row
They
dance
a crude
dance
of
an
un-needed
niggers.
As vulgar
artists
of "an"
historic needed
flush.
After
1991
two wars
of musical
chairs.
Where Eastern European
presidents
forget
to
duck
laser
guided
missiles.
The rebels
whisper
Dzhokhav
Dvdayev
They dance
of
Traders row
of a fuck-upped
Kung-Fu
movie
of
self betrayal
where
moderates
wear
bullet poof
useless
stop signs
belching
NO
Russians.
As the FBI comes
to
dance
at their
doors and
leave a bullet
in their head
as
the liars
of time
and
geography
dance
a murder
during an interview.
The
sterile dance of Trader row....
For they dance the hollow dance with Imperialism,
only to embrace the metallic kiss of a drone at
a child's birthday party in Yemen...
-30-
No comments:
Post a Comment