Remember Strange Fruit

The clouds, the first at dawn, ripened, pregnant, With sunrise, and wet, dissolved, gathered, Evolved and became, blankets, tarred black; Feathery rain, hammered, dropped and spat, Cast out, of the womb, of heaven; the trident, Electricity, crackled, white, forked the earthen Vagina; splitting trees, their penile trunks, charred With tongues of flame; gnarled bark, ablaze, When from a bough, hung, fruit, the strangest Fruit you’ve ever seen; untouched by flame, black Just the same; noose neck crooked, sightless Crow-pecked sockets, purple tongue torn, Ravaged; hands hemp-bound, dripped with rain; Carcass left to rot, decay, pendulously sway, Morbid compass, warns others who would rise, Speak, dare suggest, they have human rights. Strange fruit, indeed, yet stranger still the Bone orchard spooks, supremacists, bigots, Who put the fruit on the bough; retards, dumb, Blinded; nothing is achieved by ignorance, Terrorism, superstition, stupidity – just self-fulfilling Prophecies and a long, hard day’s dying, for those Of such morally rank, necrotic persuasion. By such hands, progress falters, cosmically trips, Slips on galactic banana peel; and people, innocents, As ever, are needlessly done to death in The redneck night of each numbskull day.