On My Raft And Sullen Cart

The Klu Klux Klan drives by silently at night,
are they looking for a new comet, a new planet?
John Keats wrote a nice poem about that once.

The cops spray the neighborhood with bullets,
they kill a mentally handicapped, black girl.
The color purple doesn’t look good on a turtle.

The Minute Men gather on the Mexican Border,
trying to stop the illegal aliens.
Funny how those Arabs slipped in so easily from Canada.

The rich men convene to deprive the poor,
they’ve done it all before.
Robert Lowell wrote a poem to praise them.

Cesar Vallejo died of hunger in Paris
and the rain pelted his wooden coffin.
That’s why Rimbaud fled the art.