Little Dicky Durbin
Went and lost his turban.
His brains fell out,
His brains fell out,
Dicky’s now the burden.
Baiting race, baiting race,
A load we can’t unburden.
Ahoy Illinois, Ahoy!
Maleficent, your little boy!
Along you easily glide,
Having earned the title, “Ms Snide.”
In your stocking, a lump of coal,
The mocking, your only goal.
The shine on your shoes, veneer,
A glance in the mirror will make that clear.
Searching for answers? Look in the mirror.
No other thing that shows you clearer.
Beware of meeting a veneered vacuum,
And wondering just who’s the veneerer.
Raze the Confederate statues, Yes, Yes Yes!
No longer can we praise the white oppressors!
Crush the naive esteem of white successors!
Circumvent learning history’s sordid mess!
Don’t raise an adjacent statue, Frederick Douglass
Perhaps, offering notes and lyrics of songs
Of freedom, spirituals, to release the tongs
And point to railroads with a secret compass.
Yes Yes become part of antifa we could,
Fascist heathens breeding darkly in hoods,
And repeat this history, we surely would!
Thick green algae, still,
Brown turtles sun on a log,
Black water slithers.
Irma is coming,
Winds, sea surge, floods, destruction!
Caught up with the bills.
Irma the Storm, Irma, Storm,
Maybe now just watch some porn.
Life seemed to push living a facade.
An old man knows why he squirms.
‘Twas to not have dug up green sod
Before, to face the mud and the worms.
He might have achieved an honest calm
To work through some troubling events,
A quiet steadfast soothing balm
To pop out unblunted dents
Unscrewing the vise on battered heart,
Easier then from her apart.
Bitter regrets, another drop of death,
The bucket overflows. Soon, no more breath!
Listen to the menu, our options have changed,
Human to human contact to us most strange!
Surely, do we direct your crucial call
With no human contact, no, none at all!
We won’t burden ourselves with questions from you,
Accountability we clearly eschew!
Since we’re in charge, and you, trifling, out there,
It’s a matter of fact, we just don’t care!
She bends, leans forward,
Clears the blue teapot and cup;
Tilts her head, looks, smiles.
He stares, eyes, lips; an exchange,
An interlude of promise.
gkpoetry 