February 1, 2022
From Monthly Review
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”When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.”

Maya Angelou

“Nothing will fundamentally change…”

Ol’ Schmo

Is it Just My Imagination; or was it really
a year ago—the horn honking and all the
Dancing In The Streets?
Was it a breather from Boss Tweet’s months
of Mengele Medicine? Or, another cover of
“Promises, Promises, Promises, Promises?”

Is The Orange Age a blip on capitalism’s
continuum—scant four years of blitzkrieg—
like the thousand year Third Reich
that smoldered in ruin after twelve?
Or, is it the Civil War—looped—and playing
out in theaters near you? What’s Goin’ On?

Ask Ol’ Schmo—he might know—
he cut his teeth at the feet of crackers with
confederate cred—Dangling on the dicks of Dixiecrats
putting pubic hair on a Coke can above The People:
Gifting us Bassackwards Tribesman Thom-
ass Clarence—aka Long Dong Silver—for life…

Ask Ol’ Schmo—he might know—
like Boss Tweet, The Drone Ranger, W and
Slick Willy before him—Which high fructose
corn syrup slogans—Which promise-laden
platitudes—make fecal findings easier to swallow

Ask Ol’ Schmo—he might know—
what’s needed for mastery of bipartisanship—
skillsets for pretzel postures, 1% Yoga; For
Reaching across aisles/picking The Peoples’ pockets?
Ask Ol’ Schmo—he might know—
how to build back better renewable straw men
To knock down; propping up coal barons, slimy oil-
men, gas grifters and war-profiteer Pentagon pimps;
Burn-pitting our planet for maximum profit…

Ask Ol’ Schmo—he might know—
what made the post-election angry old
boxer in him sing Dem Negroz the riot act:
“You must understand that the back of my
Hand will make your face react—upon impact—
Ohh, what’s Black got to do with it?
What’s Black but a second hand emotion?
Think bigger—think Pentagon devotion!!”

Ask Ol’ Schmo—he might know—
how the long-game’s played—Months of “Mike
and Ike—Good Cop-Bad Cop—” with Senators
Bonnie and Clyde—While “his hands are tied—”
Nothing can be done—the Votes aren’t there…
for the hardhat, lunch bucket,
PPE, “essential worker” crowd. Remember the
Ones lauded to the skies, serenaded by pots and pans?

Raymond Nat Turner is Black Agenda Report’s poet in residence and an accomplished performing artist.




Source: Monthlyreview.org