The Sport of Kings

Daniel Marlin, Red Street
Daniel Marlin, Red Street

State of the Nation

She was black but comely
She spoke truly
They whipped her
They hissed cloaked curses
You're crazy woman
You're off in the head
You must be lying
Why should we believe you honey
We want to see your breasts
House-servants everywhere
Drank murky evil and laughed
Firing hurt spitting falsehoods
From safety
Sensing the joys of blood
Didn't know that many
Thirsted for the stab and flow
Of vicarious defilement
All the bilge-sea hatred lapping
At the living room telephone
And the rectangular eye
And far away turbines spin in the combine
To lull passivity and percolate vice

You can hate a dog pack
But it won't cover their teeth
The manicured white hands of piety
Drip with cant
Consciously lifting out of cuffs
Pimps might covet
To gesture in the direction of our forefathers
Who shredded such smug flesh with tar and rope
After the speeches and the code phrases
That rivulet doubt until it is a cesspool
After hate's bastard: sophistry
After fear and guilt: the shadow guards shot like nets
There is only a news brief
In the ninth ring of Hell sits the smart money

Yet you say be grateful
To feed from the wake of Leviathan
With upcast eyes to a larger beast
But before me is a woman crying
I don't love her enough
Nor feel nor give enough
The lulled and tempted state of the servant nation
Is to have and not be enough
Doom of the blind and meager souls
Obliteration will have her own child
My heart cries out for Moab
In the time it shall be laid waste
And the specter devour all alike

In commemoration of the Anita Hill testimony 1993

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