DARK LITTLE MOTHER MISTRESS 

BROWN AND ROUND AND SUPPLE; 

COURSE AS CLAY, 

YET FINE AS A SHAFT OF MOONLIGHT. 

HOW COULD A PRINCESS BE MY WIFE? 

 

IT TOOK AN AFRICAN KING, A BLACK JUDAS, 

A WHITE AND MERCENARY SADIST, 

A SHIP, 

THREE HUNDRED YEARS 

AND MANY TEARS 

TO MAKE MY WIFE, 

AND I LOST HER!! 

 

THE BLUES BEAT US, 

THE SUN THREATENED US, 

THE WHITE MAN SICKENED AT OUR VISION 

AND TORTURED US! 

(ONE MORE VICTORY FOR THE PADDY, 

TASTE IT! NOT TOO MANY MORE ARE SCHEDULED.) 

 

ANYWAY, I LOST HER, 

WITH HER LITTLE SWEET SEXED SELF, 

LOST HER SMILE, LOST HER SOUL, 

LOST HER FINE, FINE BODY. 

 

WELL, LOVE IS A LUXURY, 

AND LUXURIES ARE FOR PALE PEOPLE. 

I CAN WAIT. 

ALL THESE CHALK-FACED EVIL PEASANTS 

LIVE IN DAILY DREADFUL TERROR, 

THREE CENTURIES OF GUILT 

UNNERVES THEM. 

I’LL WAIT! 

 

IN THIS SAVAGE AMERICAN JUNGLE 

WE BLACKS MUST ALWAYS WALK CATLIKE, 

SLEEP WITH A FRIEND TO GUARD YOU, 

AND A FRIEND TO GUARD THE FRIEND! 

AND WAIT. 

 

THIS GAME IS FOR KEEPS. 

THEY TOOK MY WIFE. 

I WANT THEIR LIFE!