Twas the night before veterans day and all through Mizzou,
Not a minority was stirring, not even a Jew.
We were all snuggled in safe healing places with mace at our sides,
Calling Reverend Jackson on our cell phones to come save our hides.
An oversized pickup had roared right down the street
With their racist flags flapping, we knew we were dead meat.
We had visions of white boys in big pointy hats;
The privileged in shadows shouting “We’ll get you and that’s that!”
“We’ll oppress all your hopes and cut minimum wage.”
“We’ll take your insurance as we burn with white rage.”
It doesn’t matter they were figments of our imagination.
The point is the threat is quite real even if confabulation.
But no one will take away what we deserve.
If they think they’ll get our handouts then they’ve got to have nerve.
So on Sharpton, on Wright, on Obama, on Lynch
On Holder and Hillary, to make a big stench.
We’ll whine and we’ll cry until the rich are all poor
And everything’s free at Big Al’s department store.
We’ll get A’s just for breathing the stifling air.
We won’t rest until everything’s ten thousand times fair.
Until then we’ll lament and tweet all our woes
With a powerful whimper we’ll defeat our white foes.

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