Fine hos

nigger navy comedy
the bait that’s lined with irony
while twitters sell
and cast a spell
on kids in grown folks skin

meanwhile dogs making their rounds
are hunting for a scent
some easy meal that they can steal
what’s said and not what’s meant

then dress up like the Son of Dog
to sermonize road kill
knowing that their audience
will never get its fill

and fools line up in Sunday’s best
eyes closed, mouths open for this mess
to swallow then regurgitate
like dummies on the laps of snakes

that’s right, they’re screwed
but they don’t care
cuz everybody’s ass is bare
so they just pay a premium
for named brand vaselinium

the smell ain’t hard to recognize
tickled assholes laugh and lie
and swear its not them that offends
but upper lips, and so you end
your arguments, and check your breath
wanting to speak life, not death
and in that pause they go to town
while you’re off guard, they beat you down
and all the lackeys understand
is to believe the winning hand
not the better one, cuz better failed
potential ain’t worth much when jailed
and so the truth that you believed
was trumped by doubt, you were deceived
and all that had their eyes on you
looking for a leader to
take them to the promised land,
put their faith in the hustle man
and grinning with a golden tooth
he sheared them sheep like pimps take youth
but as long as he has that beat and rhyme
folk will give up all their time
then look back at the end of days
and try to school their children’s ways
and paint themselves a fool that knows
still dressed in Sunday’s best
fine hos.

©01.10.17 ebn