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133 Racism Listen! Tribalism listen! Alexander Opicho I don’t know how much the world is tired Of hearing again in this year that Still racism, tribalism and negative ethnicity Is Gog and magog of human relations? I pity Africa in full swing The second largest continent in the world After Asia, being seconded by Americas, Her only cultural overture is tribalism and tribes Large tribes ravenously swallowing small ones Small tribes making desperate moves Like a bush virgin in the lethal fangs of the python, Large tribes swallowing political fruits as the small ones In desperate look, being choked by forlorn appetite, Tribalism, listen! Leave Africa alone; stop messing up the African youth to yearn for peace in America Tell the Tinka and the Nuer Of the Southern Sudan to put down the arms The arms made in the old Russia and America Tell them to go to Russia not to buy Arms but books of poetry and literature To buy Dead souls of Nikolai Gogol and The Idiot of Fydor Dostoyevsky, Tribalism, listen! Am tired of introducing myself By my clan, I don’t want to be known by my clan I want to be known by my work; I am a poet I sing and chant the African incantations of freedom I do not perpetrate feelings of tribal terror 134 It is never my work to cement ethnicity Tribes are good but tribalism is evil, or satanic or impish or gnomic or Macabarous or ghastly insidious, Racism listen! Your Ferguson’s violent Death Evinced in the of shooting a black boy to death By the white police man is no service to America Violent death of Brown Mike, in Ferguson Missouri Is not mere case of another Nigger dead, It is impeachment to universal humanity Packaged as a black bight in rope of love Out to make America and Africa nags in love, No It’s classically misplaced dint of tired racism, As Ferguson jostles with all racist mighty To shoot the poor black folks out of America, Why black poverty irritates the Americans, Is a classic question devoid of ready retort, Yet the social policy there is the virgin buttocks From which the poor of Americas are sired, Don’t kill the black poor because they are poor, Give them frame work to move up, As the poor will never go, whatsoever, No force of ill-will can remove black poverty From the elegant face of North America, Shooting and shooting wont clear the beggars, Pan-handlers or whatsoever the wretchedness From the wallowing mire of American democracy, Give the black poor a chance to live Their time for succor will come perhaps Not obviously from American governance But God of the poor has time for all of us. 135 Racism listen! Your two beautiful scrolls Are sync singing a song of white nationalism On the crest in the Ivy League station, Busy Muffling the piss drop sounds On the bowls of foot-loose beggars, A lesson for you dark son of Africa That tomfoolery is no defense before The rational altar of Trump and Brexit, Riding on followership’s bitter hangover For the Nostalgia of the waning glory, Sired by Machiavelli, groomed by Hitler, Festooned by Mussolini into a Jim Crow tor, But fault not them, that is politics or religion, Always sweet only in full gear of power-piety, Then Nurture your tiny penis for no pawn earns it, To pile your wood for the chilly winter is obvious In paranoia of Brexit and Trumpish megalomania Coming in a stampede with Tigre’s thorax, only To worry us for nothing as it is mere fear of change Truly, they are not the first clouds in the sky Of global exclusion and politics of self-idolatry, Soon to vamoose in service to their nature Of aureate appearing to whimpering fade Racism Listen! You began as sharp image of American commerce, a merchant of California, New York and Columbia Like a miracle, you went to the top at the apex Of money and glory the dual virtues of American dream, You now boil like a volcano with the mires of white conscience, Riotous salute by claques and republicans of the white world, A treat to which man is feasted on the irrationality of politics, 136 Seeing open hatred seducing votes and support across the states, Among continents of your whirligig you are a hot cake, Perhaps yours is warmly solaced on slavery of otherness, Social sadism...


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MARC Record
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