Shooting, looting, scalping, lynching,
Raping, torturing their way across
the continent—400 years ago—
Colonial settler thugs launched this
endless crimson tide rolling down on
Today…
Colonial settler thugs launched this
endless crimson tide leaving in-
visible yellow crime
scene tape crisscrossing Tallahassee
to Seattle; San Diego to Bangor…
Shooting Seneca, Seminole, Creek,
Choctaw, Mohawk, Cayuga, Blackfeet,
Shooting Sioux, Shawnee, Chickasaw,
Chippewa before
Looting Lakota land; Looting Ohlone
Land—
Looting Ashanti, Fulani, Huasa, Wolof,
Yoruba, Ibo, Kongo, Mongo, Hutu, Zulu…
Labor.
Colonial settler thugs launched this
endless crimson tide—hot lead storms—
Shooting, looting Mexico for half of New
Mexico; a quarter of Colorado; some of
Wyoming and most of Arizona; Looting
Mexico for Utah, Nevada and California
So, next time Orange Mobutu, Boss Tweet,
is dirty like Duterte—howling for shooting;
Next time demented minions raise rifles to
shoot; Remind them that
Real looters wear Brooks Brothers suits;
Or gold braid and junk medals ‘cross their
chests. Real looters—with Capitalist Hill
Accomplices—
Steal trillions
Not FOX-boxes, silly sneakers, cheap clothes…
© 2020. Raymond Nat Turner, The Town Crier. All Rights Reserved.
Essential Work
We’ll always need Race car drivers roaring
down streets where children chase balls; like
We’ll always need peaceful protesters pepper
sprayed like cockroaches; And
We’ll always need sleeping seven year-olds shot
while dreaming of dolls, sleepovers, tooth fairies;
We’ll always need children playing with toy guns
in parks executed before becoming “Hulk Hogans”
We’ll always need doors kicked in and our daughters
and sons slaughtered in wee hours—even if it is the
Wrong address…
We’ll always need elderly parents whacked for
Accidentally pressing emergency alerts; like
We’ll always need mentally ill loved ones massacred
in our homes…
We’ll always need men rushing pregnant wives to
Hospitals shot for speeding; And fathers of six
Hustling too hard chokehold lynched;
We’ll always need young women who drive and
smoke, stopped and suicided; And mothers wearing
masks wrong wrestled down in subway stations—as
their 4 year-olds watch…
We’ll always need wallets mistaken for guns—Glocks
for Tasers; fleeing Black men shot in their backs; And
bridegrooms butchered, night before their weddings…
We’ll always need Tasered hearts skanking
in Reggae rhythms; And broken broomsticks
rammed up mens’ rectums for fun…
We’ll always need bruised, bloodied, disfigured
Faces—eyeballs dangling from sockets;
We’ll always need drugs and guns planted—
Growing into cases, concertina wire, COVID-19…
We’ll always need right hooves raised Testi-lying
To judges and juries of peers on the need for knees
on necks—56 licks or 41 shots—Served to Protect
Poverty…© 2020. Raymond Nat Turner, The Town Crier. All Rights Reserved.
A Great Job, Mr. Cobb
A butterfly ballad
floating sensitive for Sass;
delicious for Dinah. A Miles
Wide open satellite dish with
elephant ears.
It’s hard bidding Masters adieu—
Last of the Kind of Blue Crew
A great, great job; Great Mr. Cobb!
Mutating swing Gene; Buddy
thing; backbeat; Bu shuffle—
Roach Shadow—Philly Joe’d…
It’s hard bidding Masters adieu—
Last of the Kind of Blue Crew
A great, great job; Great Mr. Cobb
Master
Sketching Spain with wire brushes;
The Music
just crept in to his body—Solea…
It’s hard bidding Masters adieu—
Last of the Kind of Blue Crew
A great, great job; Great Mr. Cobb!
Master
the cymbal crashing, “So What?”
The Music
just crept in to his body
Metastasizing one spring morning
in a masterpiece machine of swing.
It’s hard bidding Masters adieu—
Last of the Kind of Blue Crew
A great, great job; Great Mr. Cobb—
Last of the Kind of Blue Crew
And, Mr. Cobb—we THANK YOU…
© 2020. Raymond Nat Turner, The Town Crier. All Rights Reserved.
BAR’s poet in residence Raymond Nat Turner is an accomplished performing artist. You can find much more of his work at http://upsurgejazz.com .
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