Poetry

Arguing about Michael Brown at Gleason’s Gym

ARGUING ABOUT MICHAEL BROWN AT GLEASON’S GYM

 

A black pro fighter at Gleason’s Gym asks me what I think of Michael Brown.

I don’t want to tell him.

He might punch me in the face.

 

But I am not going to be chicken,

Cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck.

 

So I say that I wasn’t at the crime scene so I don’t know who is more responsible,

Cop Wilson or Delinquent Brown.

Still the looting was bush and made the people of Ferguson

Look bad.

 

At least Wilson was doing his job

Not burning-baby-burn.

He was a shooter not a looter;

He was defending himself, maybe.

 

My nameless friend agrees that there was no reason to loot.

He is black.

He is tough.

He is reasonable.

 

But some low class white Irish girl says the people should have looted,

Burned, even killed.

 

She is one of the poor Irish trash who immigrated to America to get a life

And now wants to end ours.

She is a bitch.

I got an itch to kill a bitch but I am not a face in the mob.

 

When did women go from Audrey Hepburn to imitation men?

Women’s lib was a form of mental transgender.

I was there in the sixties.

 

Irish trash says that I am selfish.

I tell her that I gave away more money to causes in a year when

I was rich then she earned in her life.

I gave two black fighters jobs as messengers

When my office had no messages to send.

I backed a black rap company for the hell of it.

And what has she done?

Tried to start a riot where blacks will get killed.

She doesn’t know herself.

She is a bigot in liberal’s clothing.

 

I should have told her that she was like a derivative rapper biting

The rhymes of the blacks when she was a distant white.

 

She is not black and doesn’t deserve to share their pain.

She has no money in the game.

She is a lame tourist on a mob vacation.

 

Later that night I read an article that some of the blacks stood before

The white stores to protect them from looters.

I can’t wait to tell my black nameless boxer friend.

He’ll understand.

But I won’t tell the white lady bitch.

Obama would go pale.

He is the great uniter of omnipotent divisiveness.

 

Irish girl is too busy trying to undermine the blacks while pretending

She is their buddy.

She is setting them up for the shooting.

She has the intentions of a liberal and the results of a southern gang banger.

 

The highway to hell is paved with hysterical, out of place women.

The memory of Gloria Steinem is leading fools in her misplaced promise.

 

Women feel they are gipped when they live longer than us,

Are most often treated to dinners and are often loved like spiritual candy.

Most husbands support their wives

While their wives spend their money on luxury items.

 

The blacks complain.

It drives me insane when they tear down what they should be building.

Al Sharpton is a wrecking ball.

Peaceful society crumbles under his pretense of equality

And his using violence for upward mobility.

 

As for his past?

Tawana Brawley, cocaine dealing, the mob, a snitch,

Riots galore, race baiting….

He is hurting our country every day.

How can we discredit him?

How do I hate him?

As Elizabeth Barrett Browning said,

“Let me count the ways.”

The views expressed in this opinion article are solely those of their author and are not necessarily either shared or endorsed by EagleRising.com


About the author

David Lawrence

David Lawrence

David Lawrence has a Ph.D. in literature. He has published over 200 blogs, 600 poems, a memoir “The King of White-Collar Boxing,” several books of poems, including “Lane Changes.” Both can be purchased on Amazon.com. He was a professional boxer and a CEO. Last year he was listed in New York Magazine as the 41st reason to love New York.

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