It was another truck like many others,
But what's inside was always different.
We moved people and we moved their things,
Where they wished to go was where we went.
On request we would provide packers,
Black women who'd work for minimum wages.
Uneducated, but willing workers,
They could easily learn to make packages
This day I helped manage the warehouse
And considered myself fortunate,
Because we received an unusual load
And we felt privileged to view it.
For we were moving a big game hunter
And the truck was loaded with his trophies,
But only some, according to the driver,
Who had seen more of those from overseas.
But these were only North American-
Bison, boars, bears, bighorn sheep,
Pronghorn, cougar, whitetail deer,
Elk, moose and Canadian geese.
That short list was only a part
Of the many specimens that we saw,
Prime samples of the taxidermist's art,
All seemed completely without flaw.
One of our packers was there with us,
A young black girl whose wide eyed reaction
Was absolutely spontaneous
When he told us of the African Collection.
She'd been watching from behind us,
Listening to everything, just as we were.
Her response was outrageous,
Her voice filled with quavering horror.
She couldn't believe what she'd heard,
She was afraid this man hunted Humans!
In a shrill screech, she voiced what she feared,
'YOU DON'T STUFF NO AFRICANS! '
I understand how devistated this young woman would have been, thilnking of her homeland being invaded by men like this wanting to steal humans for the pleasure of a few big cats. I love true stories, I have a few myself, thankyou Karl. --Melvina--
This happened back in the 70's. I knew that I wanted to tell the story some day, but I was uncertain how to do it without someone calling it a racist slur.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is NOT a fabricated slur on any person or group of people. I tell it exactly as it happened, without embellishment.