native americans, indians, whatever

native americans, indians, whatever

A Poem by A. Hood

I'm sitting in a dusty old lab room, my eyes glued to the microscope

carefully analyzing each word that

comes out of my mouth.

I always thought that everything

about politics was wrong;

politicians-- just slimy little guys with slicked back hair who selfishly believe

every shaken hand could be a future vote;

shining their pearly whites

through a misleading façade.

--and yet being politically correct

is a term people

often toss around today

 

If I say the politically incorrect thing someone may hear it,

who will text it to their cousin,

who will email it to their sister,

who will tweet it to her celebrity crush,

who will then re-tweet it to each and every one of his two million followers.

My verbal misstep is now front page news.


We’re all just mindless mannequins anyway,

who copy and paste our breakfast talk each morning

 

So in the future if I happen to come across a Native American,

I can guarantee you, I won’t make the same mistake Columbus did.

© 2016 A. Hood


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Added on March 31, 2013
Last Updated on November 30, 2016