My Wise Country Cousin On de Blak Boozewahzee
Dey cum buck dancin’, ‘bout ebry 2 ta 4 years,
Afta dat, is dey ‘bout scarce as Lepercon ears?
Is dese spooks ‘bout korrup as de day is long—
An’ “don’ wanna be rite, if luvin' monee wrong?”
Do Dem Negroz ack lak 1 purse-cent pleazurs,
Wit staks ob col’ cash stuff’d in dey freezurs?
Is dey de Franklun-Clevelun-Chase-Demokrat,
You see shufflin’ to where ebber de monee at?
Net newtralitee, pryvit prisuns, wo’ on terrur—
You think dese slick Negroz makin’ an errur?
Leaduhs? Leaduhs lak one an’ one be three—
Son, you’s talkin’ ‘bout de Blak Boozewahzee!
Boy, obur forty years ago we peep dey acks:
Korprit boad rumes; an’ all de sub-contraks—
Nebber mine de Blak masses in absoloot ruin
Dem Negroz know eggzakly what dey’s doin’…
Nah, I woodn' call dem de misleedurship class—
Wuz dey ebber ‘bout ‘leadin’’ mah po’ blak ass?
Raymond Nat Turner © 2018 All Rights Reserved
Our poet in residence Raymond Nat Turner has a lot of work over at http://upsurgejazz.com. Check it out.
Remembering Glen Ford and all that he taught us.
Fraternal fist-bump between gangstas—Fugget about it… (For Allen Ginsberg, my other favorite ‘Jersey Boy’)
