Riot Call Ii - Poem by Pedro Tejada
I have sent a request
to all the white cone clad
twiddling their thumbs with menace
and hunting for their latest scapegoat
to mask their feelings of inadequacy...
As the smut on my garage door
slithers your hatred along
in the form of the word 'FAGGOT'
and the last three men who shook me to the core
have been reduced to front page casualties,
I beg to finally join this league of humankind.
Please, ladies and cavemen, do as I ask
or I might just lead myself to
your double standard neck into thousands
of desperate times that surpass desperate measures.
You see, you've eliminated all the other options,
as I will no longer be reduced
to another strange fruit hanging
on the swastika tree, for I've seen
the cracks from the stones
colliding into your precious glass houses.
Preaching your 'manhood' and your 'sanctity'
on your altars as the color of your
wife's eyes seem to slip your busy mind,
giving us yet another juxtaposition
to lock with these once worn chains
onto your Stone Age door.
It must stop.
Those sounds of you slinging
your fists and your speech
towards all, including your own flesh and blood.
Our palms can't stay nailed to the wooden floor,
our lips can't stay sewn shut anymore,
angels writhing in their graves,
your time has run out!
Here my friend...is your riot call.
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