…Come out the shadows and get Reich with some brew…
by Raymond Nat Turner
Elbowing Bruce, Glen, Margaret,
Marsha and Nellie out the way for
Fly on the wall, I win!
Now, the question is will the
Commander-in-Chief drop a NASA
On his law enforcement audience,
Or, go back to basics— masterful
Maneuvering like Skippy-gate?
“It’s not about the color of your skin,
It’s about the alcoholic content of your
Beer…”
You people who are darker than beer
Let me make one thing perfectly clear
Tis’ the season of profits and cheer—
Lost sales and profits have us here!
From watching your actions and chatter
We know, now, that black beers matter
Feeling your pain and hearing your call
I’m pouring libation with ‘8 Ball’…
Now, don’t let the smooth taste fool you
Take my advice I’m trying to school you
Ready for Hillary to re-mule you,
For the wise 1% that rule you
Upholding ways of 12th and Lynch Street
Where hungry rope, victim's neck meet
St. Louis is to beer and Anheuser-Busch—
Like Chicago-Operation PUSH!
You must put aside crippling mistrust—
Fighting every killing, beating, bust
Cease your staunch, protracted resistance
Nothing’s gained by stubborn persistence!
Reject cries for organization
Dial down militant agitation
Re-calibrate comments and remarks
Empire’s prairie, your words are sparks…
Come sip ‘8 Ball,’ come discuss and plan
With me, Holder, Sharlaton and Van
Plenty kegs, pitchers and “Yes, we can—“
Have input from Jellow Puddin’ Man…
Taming resistance, relaxing wills
Prescribing Dr. Huxtabull’s pills
Waking up in bright orange jumpsuits
“Change you can believe in,” new Roots…
(* ‘8 Ball’ = Olde English 800, a ghetto beer with high alcohol content, not Utopia at $350 a pint.)