Posted by Rich Magahiz Sat, 28 Feb 2009 21:33:00 GMT
I just would like to state here that hello
is not really what one says to a mulatto
brought up for murder 1. The albino
judge, face sharp and pinched as a mosquito
had heard the theories of altered libido.
“This is not justice, this is denial,”
I whispered, “a travesty of denial
much deeper than any muttered hello
can contain.” I could tell that the libido
argument was making the poor mulatto
squirm and twitch as though a trained mosquito
had been sicced on him by that albino.
Everyone called hizzoner albino
though he had lots of color. More denial,
I fumed, and more of that damn mosquito
obfuscation! Oh don’t mind me, hello!
Clearly I was the last hope that that mulatto
had, with all this blather of libido.
He had no more and no less libido
than anyone else there, me, the albino,
or the DA, Vanna. The mulatto
stared at Exhibit A in denial.
Was that shank was how he had said hello
to Miss Tina, felling her like a mosquito?
Wait! That’s it! In winter, what mosquito,
whether it had a prodigious libido
or not, could so much as signal hello
anyway? I sent a note to Judge albino
floating the idea of a denial
exonerating the poor mulatto
of all charges. Each of us is mulatto
just as each of us is part mosquito.
Vainly, then, do we sing our denial.
It is no more than frustrated libido
that quickens both the swarthy albino
and yourself. How low, how low your hello?
Signaling my mulatto of suspect libido,
as low as a mosquito was to that albino,
the motion of denial became just “hello.”