My mom gave me these stripes at birth:
In the veldt they‘ve proved their worth
For hidin’ from predators
Or National Geographic editors,
But in practice these stripes are a major
Eye-catcher not to mention privacy-destroyer.
Even the Budweiser Clydesdales can splash
In the sea without turning heads in their dash,
But if I test the water with a hoof,
Everyone stares vacuously and somewhat aloof,
Saying hey man check that way-out motion!
What’s that zebra doin’ in the ocean?
And all the sneered joke-verses in the Bahamas
About horses wearing pajamas
Supposed to be - but ain’t really - funny rhymes
When you’ve heard ‘em a thousand times.
Its simply racism - no other word for it all right.
That’s all it is if you look at it in black and white.
If I’m struttin’ with the Lipizzaner stallion types
They start to sneer at guys with black stripes
Making ‘em dizzy as they dance.
Or maybe if I care for a little prance,
Hangin’ with the Black Beauties and their shining backs
Just chillin’ the other side of the tracks
They don’t want “some guy with white stripes”
And they moan and whine their gripes.
They say we’re similar to the horse
But some of those guys are worse;
Maybe we’re related to these equine masses
But they’re less like horses - more like asses.
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2011
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