The miscreants

Rebuke you
in the name
of Jesus…
you
miscreants,
blood on hands
for generational
crimes –

of forcing others
to kneel
before faux
omnipotence.

Do as I say,
not as I do,
a common refrain
but now
is never the right time
to discuss roots
of inequity…

toughen up;
get over it;
wear a tie;
you should have complied;
spoken the Kings English;

ever since I was a babe
they’ve tried
to extinguish
my grace…

post haste.

Skin like mine
not seen
as divine,
but inclined,
to make me
susceptible
to fitting the description,
despite wielding
impeccable diction…

historically predisposed
to serial miscarriages
of justice,
by way of the extra-judicial
not unlike mobs,
of yesteryear…
on backs of post cards –
sundown towns
still exist…

because of the
original sin,
indelibly infused
within the body
politic that ain’t
stopped since
1776… as Jericho played
prevent defense on
enfranchisement…
of those who laid
the cornerstone
of the republic.
Those who
choose
ideas and labels
over humanity
are the true radicals.