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The Reaction in Ferguson is Stupid

The Stupidity of Ferguson

Shoot ‘em up in Ferguson, Missouri.

Annie Oakley has become a thug tripping over pants.

A musical of dopes,

Injuring their own hopes in self-immolation,

A failed nation.


Let them burn their own stores so that tomorrow is an empty lot.

The mob is a mindless ball of violence in a field without a game.

They are viciously insane.

They juggle Molotov cocktails

And shoot for clownish fun.


All for a punk named Michael Brown who weighs a small ton

And tries to grab a cop’s gun.

Some pudgy reason to loot and go to war?

What are they fighting for?

A fat, bum-rushing brainless kid.


Not like fighting the Germans to win WWII.

Brown ain’t worth fighting for.

Are you sure?

You’ve got to be kidding.

We should ignore what should be ignored.


Morons risk their town for a fat nothing,

The absence of a brain,

A hollow shout.

Rocks and bottles,

The dummies give them a throw.


Their Jesus Christ is Brown hanging from some stolen cigars.

They bused criminals in.


The revolutionaries,

The demonic self-appointed soldiers,

Che Gueveras in boxer shorts abusing the enemy.


The Black Panthers would make the panthers in the jungle cringe.

Protestors protest

But what they do best is fail IQ tests.

Photographers were arrested.

They took pictures of nothing and entered the frame.

They wanted to become the story instead of record it.


They wanted to make it a tale of racism in a society

That has been open and free for the last hundred years.

If Officer Wilson was wrong to take the shots

The looters were not right to raid the lots,

Connect the dots of violence.


It was a strong arm robbery by the punk.

Brown then bum rushed the cop like a skunk.

He stinks like the people of Fergusson.

A town filled with manure and human offal.



The way losers want to loot and shoot and root for criminals

Because the mood of America has dripped from the President’s

Racist face.

He douses the anger with quiet kerosene.

And calls in Eric Holder to count the beans of bigotry,



And innocence spread in the mud.


They sit in Noah’s ark but there ain’t no flood.

 Call it self-deception,

The consequences of a fixed, stupid election of dunces

In the voting booth and long-in-the- tooth on the podium.

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

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 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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