Florida Colors Poem by Lamont Palmer

You have no right to be here,
You loud enemies borne of all
That we fear, strident offsprings
Of Emmett Till,
Looking at us
With evil in your brutal eyes.
Our trepidation
(driven by your woolly freedom)
Which suffuses
Each molecule, and
Each incident of pandemonium
Lives like a
Near maniac within us.
We’ve done this before
As it was the law, derived
From myths; violent and fiery
As hooded volcanoes
On the verge of emitting murder.
It was once Scottsboro
And now its these cities
Of oranges and warmth
Which we mistrust,
And because we are losing
The original vision,
That distant rock of Plymouth,
Where there was a landing
Of pure survivors;
An incision into
The new world, now gone insane.
We are not now surviving
And have
Resorted to ugly triumphs
Which will kill
Us and you, like unholy swine.