With a bellicose laughter,
The Man,
Muttered a primal viciousness
Draped,
In serpentine vestment,
Feasted on air-borne dusts;
Never once late for supper.
He drew from a reservoir
Of lies and hate.
The Man,
A revisionist from the start,
Avoided the narrow gate.
Looked like a lion,
Barked like a dog.
The Man,
Mustered the Jew Haters.
A klan,
That killed Blacks and Puerto Ricans.
Elusive as ever,
The Man,
Sometimes wears a collar:
White at the neck
But hellish in the heart.
Buxton Shippy
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-man-25/
