Fo’ an ignut-ass Facebook ‘friend’

Fo’ an ignut-ass Facebook ‘friend’

by BAR poet-in-residence Raymond Nat Turner

Don’t look now, an ignorant
Ass boy in L.A.’s on Facebook
Asking what instrument would
Drone Ranger, Deporter-in-Chief
Play if he were a Jazz Musician!

Don’t laugh, Slick Willy fooled
Niggas with his saxophone and
Shades, his false-fingering off-
Shoring of their jobs, his cutting
Sessions on welfare, unison with
Reagan regime and Bush I phony
War On Drugs/real war on poor,
Working-class Blacks and Browns…

This LA-LA Land moron
Effectively fucked up my
Morning—something like
That dumb-ass Diddy-boy
Did in 2004 with T-shirts
Emblazoned “Vote or Die!”
That would have better read
“Vote AND Die!”

Surely, this fool, this brain
Dead Facebook ‘friend’ knows
The Drone Ranger, Deporter-in-
Chief is a vocalist—ventriloquists
Hands up his ass, making his
Mouth move, a mechanical man
Sitting on knees war profiteers
Lap-dancing Lockheed-Martin,
Northrup-Grummond, Haliburton,
Boeing, a Johnny-one-note Cosby
Clone, with his annual *NASA to
Black men, “pull up your pants,”
Exonerate, glorify the banksters
Blues, like the Four Tops said so
Well, “It’s The Same Old Song…”
Answering Edwin Starr, “War,
What is it good for?” in ways
Making dollars and sense to
Generals Dynamic, Electric, and
Playing Stevie like a “Signed, Sealed,
Delivered” synthesizer, Denver to today—
So, so sad to see my musical genius hero
Tone deaf politically to “Tuesday Heartbreak”
Of Afghanistan, Pakistan, Yemen, Somalia
Families in Drone Ranger’s remote controlled
Murder plots…

Stevie and silly LA-LA Land boy
Stop it please, it’s gone too far—
Leave castrati, strap on your balls,
Sing, sing like Teddy, with awakening
Black and Brown masses of poor working
Folk—repeating myself asking, begging
You like Otis, to sing, sing out loud:
“Think we better let him go, ‘cause
He looks like another Booker T-KO!”

*NASA = Nigga Ain’t Shit Address

Raymond Nat Turner can be contacted at Raymond (at) upsurgejazz.com

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