Florida trees hang strange fruit
Humming a political hymn as George W. Bush
Treats America like Billie Holiday
Leaving her broke
Strung out
And near dead by the time you hear this poem
And in the land of the deadly and unjust
A young man from suburbia
With bright eyes and dull ideas wonders how the ghetto taste
I say it taste like smoke bombs in Brooklyn
Heat bombs in Bagdad
Suicide bombers in Israel
Roach bombs covering the concrete floors of any concrete jungle
its 2004 and
the war has yet to stop in the 5 boroughs of NYC
the blacktops of South Central still harbor gang wars from spilling over into Hollywood’s lights
its where the projects of Louisiana house desperation
and you can smell it all the way to Houston and Dallas
and yes
Bush is still rich
And so is his daddy
So why do I still know single mother’s who can’t afford a pap smear
Can’t pay the utility bills with her tears
Why do I watch father’s lose their hopes in the fold of the industrial prison complex
Lose their manhood on primetime slots during Cops
So just call me the kettle – better yet call me Black
Cause I’ve been Black and WOMAN and unpatriotic since the auction block
Not American enough since Hottentot Venus stood full frontal
Behind glass casing
Unabashedly beautiful
Stripped of her clothes but never her dignity
Never considered American enough to rescue from
Purgatory
Like Nick Berg
His insides poured out and the only things his country could offer
His memory
Is the most internet downloads in history
So when my 6 year old asks why people hate Bush
I reply simply
People don’t hate BushThey just hate stupidity
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