A War Criminal Chastises Children

BAR Poet-in-Residence Raymond Nat Turner

20 Nov 2019

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“This idea of purity and you’re never compromised
and you’re always politically woke
and all that stuff, you should get over that quickly.”
— Drone Ranger, aka .44 Magnum, aka Iceberg Slim.

It’s been four years since
he strode from the War House,
Saddlebags bulging, and galloped
into the sunset of civilian life…Post
Psy-Ops: Operation Neutralize Negroz;
(ONN) Operation Masked Man (OMM)

Four years since his young war
criminalettes left the War House
pondering a girl group—the
Empirettes—with Chelsea and
W’s twins

Four years since his sidekick said,
“When they go low (roots in the ground)
We go high (drones) “Chemotherapy!”
“Chemotherapy” a loving nickname,
‘cause in treating the tumor of ‘terror’
He killed anything living—
schoolchildren; grandmas gardening,
harvesting okra; doctors treating patients,
nurses assisting doctors; farmers and animals—
Anything!

McMansion, million dollar book deals,
six-figure speaking engagements—
Thirty pieces of silver, accounting for
inflation…
The Madison Avenue made man is lite
years away from The Audacity of Dope;
Yes, we can and bottled Jim Jones Juice;
and Regime change you can believe in…

He never went anywhere—but he’s
Baaaaack—prancing and lecturing like
Jel-Low Puddin’ Man. Taut tongue the
bullwhip—oratorical cat-o’-nine-tails—
each sentence a stripe slicing through
Our collective Black back bone. Still, the
Drone Ranger unleashes his weaponized
Words. Flamethrower phrases delivered
during his Annual *NASA. He burns our
Martyrs in effigy. He cremates history,
leaving us pathetic “Pookie,” “Ray-Ray”
ashes…

Every Tuesday, for 8 years, the Drone Ranger
unleashed “Tuesday Heartbreak” ravaging
Families, converting homes to combat zones;
Every Tuesday, for 8 years, the Drone Ranger
“Signed, Sealed and Delivered” deadly destruction:
Hellfire Missiles from Predator Drones;
Every Tuesday, for 8 years, the Drone Ranger
hit home: a baby’s brain exploded, covered
in crimson vomit in congealing pools of
Blood on the bombed hospital floor;
And the only truth he’s offering the
Children is, “The world is messy…”

*NASA: Nigga Ain’t Shit Address

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