The Banishment
We don't want you here
Your crops grow better than ours
We don't want you here
You're not one of our kind
We'll drive you out
As though you were never here
Your names, family and history
We'll make them all disappear
We don't want you here
You look too good on Sunday
We don't want you here
You work too hard on Monday
We don't want you here
Your children are learning in school
We don't want you here
Why aren't they behind a mule?
We don't want you here
Your women dress so fine
We don't want you here
Your gain means
Our decline
Why aren't your men
Stooped and bent
The way they should be
They walk about town
As though they were free
We don't want you here
Go away and never return
We don't want you here
Your homes, farms and
Churches will burn
We don't want you here
__________________________
Ishmael Reed
Why The Black Hole Sings The Blues
Poems 2007-2020
Dalkey Archive, 2020
Reed's masterpiece "The Jazz Martyrs"
is included here
