Old Southern Californian Aryan Racketeers


Curtain rising, Black images
Fading, lost, stolen, strayed;
‘White’ suspense speeches
Read like corporate talking
Points, red carpet, 30 million
Viewers, Grand Jury True Bills—
Dice loaded, card’s marked,
Diversity smells like charcoal…
Well, “Hooray for Hollywood”
Never meant Black folk no good…

Get over opinions of color-
Blind ‘white’ men with
Bleached white plastic
Smiles, like you got over
Santa Claus, tooth fairies and
Taney’s Dred Scott script—
Oscar Micheaux’s the only
Oscar relevant, ignore pink-
Eyed lobbyists with detached
Retinas, jaundiced scammers
Legally blind, like monkeys on
Capitalist Hill, like sightless
Juries who saw Rodney as King-
Kong, “controlling the situation,”
Mike Brown as “Hulk Hogan
Bulking up, running through shots,”
Eric Garner as an irresponsible
Stuntman, holding his breath
After his scene was a wrap—
Well, “Hooray for Hollywood”
Never meant Black folk no good…

Quit crashing burning house
Parties, wincing at embers, and
Acrid smoke blinding teleprompter
Readers, missing the Hurricane and X
Denzel whipped up, Round Midnight
Dexter Gordon delivered, timelessly,
Soldier Story Adolph Caesar marshaled, masterfully…
Well, “Hooray for Hollywood”
Never meant Black folk no good…

So tap grapevines, pool pennies
Grown at grassroots; hand out
Statuettes resembling Robeson,
Josephine Baker, Ruby Dee and
Ossie Davis—call ‘em ‘Robies,’
‘Paulies,’ ‘Josies,’ ‘Rubies,’
‘Ossies—‘ just do it…

Former forklift driver/warehouse worker/janitor, Raymond Nat Turner is a NYC poet; BAR's Poet-in-Residence; and founder/co-leader of the jazz-poetry ensemble UpSurge!NYC. Read other articles by Raymond Nat, or visit Raymond Nat's website.