where the writers are
A Cup Of Tea With A Patriot (poem)

A meeting at Starbucks a great American

franchise to discuss a favorite American



Disenfranchising people of color


Hate delivered with a smile while I sipped a

chi latte


I came across a picture of a black man about

to be lynched in East Texas


the image was blurry so I was left to wonder what

thoughts crossed his mind


looking out at his neighbors dressed in their



smiling, chatting about the weather and the Preacher’s

sermon, smoking their pipes, licking their lips


while sharpening their knives, tying their ropes,

raising their clubs, cracking their whips


preparing to take his life in a cannibalistic orgy of

torn flesh, broken bone and blood


Streams and streams of red-black blood


Did it occur to him as it does to me looking into

dead eyes bulging out of sockets, filled with hatred


I cannot co-exist with creatures such as these empty,

soulless, sponges soaking life from everything

they touch




The boogey-man in their nightmares, the

person they live in fear of as much as they do

the second coming of Christ


Their hatred and my rage cannot co-exist


I am a bad Negro—it is a good day to die