"Taunts to the Klan" by Kirwyn Sutherland

Klu klux what?

I'm a such

A tool for America

Hands scraped raw

Hammered deep into cotton

Fly up and it rains gold

I'm a Midas

But was forced to turn

Inanimate objects into fortune

To fields of green picked

Over and rotten

I'm a supposed

Dead used problem

Both birth and demise

Alleged

Between trying to kill

And forgetting about

I'ma question

A poking to see if I writhe

How much can a country

Heap on a back until

It concaves into a nail

America's only seeming quandary

You jealous?

//

Hey Klu

Can I call you Klu

What you going to do

With that cross besides

Make me laugh

A tongue is a flame

A black body is a cross

You worship, me?

Little ol' burnt thing

Used to be pick to your ninny

Now every time you lynch me

You clone me

//

Behind you!

Issa Me

Oh! You thought the

Noose would kill me

No, no,no,no,no,no

I mean not really me

But another me

Remember the clone

The string up

and teleport

So every molecular thing

Served up to slaughter

Still lives structurally

Same skin and everything

But equipped with the

Memory of your evil

I do strange things with memory

Like let it drip into a knife

But don't worry

I haven't breathed here enough

To know how to use it

//

I don't get the sheet. I never got the sheet. I mean sure back then it was just as much about costuming fear as it was a mask, but now it's not even necessary. We have lived long enough to spot a racist. A white person could yawn and I could tell you if they whisper nigger under their breath in boardrooms or if they loudly proclaim their lust for my blood. It's all the same to me, all engineers of the type ecosystem that thirsts for black death so take off those gosh-darn sheets, join us, reveal how easily you slip into assembly, you'd be surprised.

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