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He said
my people come from a place
where the dung beetle reigns
I heard those profane utterances
and remained composed,
though he word assassinated my ethnic character
Once upon an ancient time ago,
my people dwelled in the land of Ham,
(it’s called Africa today)
the place where Moses met God — 
I Am That I Am
Then we were sardine shipped
to America land
But the funny thing is ...
(yet, I’m not laughing)
after my people were stolen away,
his people took up residence there for a long time
Instituting European rule 
for a mighty long time
His people sat on that colonialism chair,
squatting there for a real long time
When his carpetbagging relatives lived there,
that wretched place smelled sweet then
Getting them diamonds, ivory and precious jewels
made that a beautiful place 
to prop up that Caucasian overlord footstool
I wonder what was the fragrance flowing thru the land,
when his ancestors 
were resting upon their plantation veranda porches
What did the rich, dark land smell like back then?
How foul was the air,
when his people were living there?
Now today, historical amnesia has set in,
as he boast about the color of his alabaster skin
He has a downright wicked cavalier attitude ... 
for people of color, he don’t much care
Haughty venom spitting on Africa like that,
but they once lived there
His people took everything of value that was there,
anything of worth got sea fared
The vestiges of colonialism is the foul odor
which he now smells
that still lingers long in the African night air
His people sat on that colonialism outhouse chair,
taking a squat there for a real long time
But when they lived there,
the smell didn’t bother them one bit
That stinky dung of oppression
got piled up sky high in a heaping pit
Now I’m just waiting on
the methane fumes of judgment to get lit
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