Tooling by that run-down
In their souped-up clunkers,
Our honkies must have thought
The town's sole token Nigger
Ned couldn't tell shit from Shineola;
And that they surely had it over
Him to boot.
I guess that explains why
He was never caught hauling
Smart-ass white punks like us a hundred
Miles to his whores in the city and back
Come late every Saturday night
In that beautiful, sharp, shining, slick
Mother-fucking classic of a black
POSTSCRIPT: I was seriously considering posting this poem before President Obama's inauguration ceremony but decided against it for fear of having my blog flagged for using vulgar, offensive language. However, after reading Ron Silliman's blog which had a link to a Guardian
article about a high school "teacher" in my former home state of Washington, I had second thoughts about not posting it. Hope nobody's offended.