Saturday, March 01, 2008
The Patient Fantasies Of The Newly Emergent, Or, Karma Comes Back For The Dog-Whistlers
(To the tune of "Tomorrow Belongs To Me".)
The sundown towns no longer maintain their signs.
No crosses are burned on TV.
The racists reluctantly learned new lines:
An open society!
Those born since the sixties they cannot recall
The dogs and the noose in the tree.
Their elders agree to forget it all.
What could I grow up to be?
White Citizen's Councils avert not their eyes
Co-opting N.A.A.C.P.,
But my ear hears whispers to organize --
The White House was meant for me.
The Homeland Security powers will be
The tools of my wrath -- you will see
The bigots frog-marched far across the sea
For vengeance belongs to me.
