a poem in the style of Claude McKay

If Someone Must Die
after Claude McKay

If someone must die, let it not be like cowards,
Consigned to our houses watching late night TV
And the news all day, while the rains ease forward
Through the golden gates, wrapped with stupidity.
If someone must die, let it be the elderly, the poor,
The faded proletariat, left to erupt with themselves
And the rooms they inhabit, as locusts descend upon pimps and whores
And blood, fire, and lice rain down on the basement of hell.
Indeed there is now a common foe, my god!
As history reads its passage back off cue cards
And places its absurdities through dirt and sod
So we can bury our beloved without economies in shards.
And with a leader who disrobes and bathes in sin
Idiotic and poisonous and blaming everyone but him.

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