by Raymond Nat Turner
Bomb 'em to stone man
Free-fire zone man
Jim Jones man
Villain called Drone Man
Wrong Song In The Key Of Death
(Call The Villain)
by Raymond Nat Turner
Flaming grooves burning lard off
Drumsticks and gyrating boo-tays;
Lush chords working their ways
Through Jazz clubs and churches;
Melodies reeling ribbons in from
The sky---Genius of the giant,
Master Blaster, Sir Duke of our times!
But picking politicians,Stevie's either a
Dupe, dope, dunce or dilettante played
By star-spangled charlatans---corporatists
Cloaked in Populist cotton, like Chippendale
Dancers wearing suicide vests, Senors signed,
Sealed and delivered to celebrity-worshipers by the 1%:
Like a relatively unknown man
A hugely overblown man
A corporate grown man
Political clone man
Like a Skull & Bone man
A Rhine-stone man
Testosterone man
Bellicose tone man
Bomb 'em to stone man
Free-fire zone man
Jim Jones man
Villain called Drone Man
Call the villain Drone Man
Call the villain Drone Man...
Raymond Nat Turner (c) 2012 All Rights Reserved
She’s actively stopping American politics from moving any further left than the nightmare we see before us.
Outrage over ICE raids rings hollow while 2 million languish in prisons. America has always had concentration camps. We just reserve our anger for the ones with TV cameras.
“Racists don’t give up easily, we learned, and the racists in sports are especially dedicated.”
"Don’t point fingers. Don’t ask evil questions." is the latest from BAR's Poet-in-Residence.
As settler-colonial violence escalates from Kanaky to Palestine, Fanon’s century-old warnings are critical today—capitalism’s genocidal expansion demands revolution.
