Ruling Rulers Ruse Retards
The scuttling spider, so grotesque
yet it’s silken web a token beauty;
much like the token handles
on a wooden oak door;
why singular, why aren’t there 2 handles?
One set for left hands, one for right
one for women, another for men
a reductionist’s wet dream;
Racial profiling would mean
There would be a set for everyone.
Yet the ignorant only know so much
so there won’t be any colour papers;
just a black and white newspaper
being read by a black or white man;
with his hand on a black pawn
nearing its death by a white knight
on the black and white chess board.
They say that a metaphor would work
but why shouldn’t I use a simile;
why say the pain is east and west
a necrophiliac compass;
when I can just tell you friend
that my back is like the whipped slaves
of yesteryears, lashed and hunched.
I’m an oxymoron in myself;
so relaxed and stressed, burning in heaven
whilst bathing in hell;
churning in hunger whilst eating
that even 500 messiahs
And there 500 fishes couldn’t fill my bread.
Then tell me why is my hunger sedated
when I should be famished?
Having not eaten, flesh stretched thin
and my mind’s so ravished.
What if the woman you loved was a mirage;
a hideous plastic undercoat hidden by
blind cupid, what if she were a hooker
Would you buy her services, or was it personality?
The odd category created by society,
the skewed sense of sensibility
and upper class sophistication.
It’s probably probable,
these days obesity is thick
and since fat became phat
every coloured woman wants a bigger canvas;
so she can show more of the colour
that she’s so proud of, clicking her fingers
While sucking the spittle between her teeth;
she seems obviously ignorant…
but a minority can’t be ignorant.
To tell a bum to get a job will get you shot
so live in this world of wrongs;
this world of politically correct speakers
with their inner racial frustrations;
so angry, that they covet red ants
whilst trampling on the black one’s
one a day at a time.
Come live in my world…
it’s in mental retardation.
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