poetry

Son, it look lak Unca Jim say, “Las’ time I chek I’se de whip— an’ got no time fo’ young Negroz wit all dey Blak Life lip…” He say, “de Bibull  speak ob “spoilin’ de chile by sparin’ de rod!” as he read de Riot Ak to whippasnappas ob ‘de Squad…’ “We rescued yo’ po’ asses frum Boss Tweet—de main dangur— lak pullin’ Negroz feet frum fire ob W wit de Drone Rangur!” We gib ‘de lef’ movin’ space wit Ol’ Blak Schmo an’ Ladee Blu— what else can me, Miss Nancy, Cap’n Steny an’ Tio Tomas do? Jim say, . . .