Muhammad in Gaza


We are the haters, hating deep,
you big black bastard bursting out of Louisville,
gelding all your betters with your flashing fists.
At first, you kept your place
(An ape, we said, could have your skill).
"A credit to his race," we said,
trying not to weep.
We beat you, Boy, beat you good.
In bars and board rooms,
we stole your time, we kept you chained.
Bend, damn you, bend your knee!
We are the haters, hating deep
all you are and we can never be.