how do i fit into a box
that's awfully tight from all directions
is it through psychoanalytic introspection
in hope of castrating away my ignorance

or should i give hate speech a chance
publicly decline to read a toni morisson novel
because a nobel prize is for a man
not just, here you go, m'am, what the hell

this is where the room gets quiet
as if your grand daddy didn't fly the flag
of a confederacy that had no place for muslims or a fags
we're now in polite company
no racists or sexists anywhere the eye can see
the african slaves of the twenty first century
are what i'm trying to find in the mirror
by asking the questions i don't want to hear
facing my hatred, because for everyone, trust me
some hatred is there, you can hide it or fight it
in any case it won't disappear in life with no meaning
beyond a drive to survive, by sharp-dressing monkeys
waiting next to a burning cross for god's open arms
or as children, father frost's