6847: Going Home? Beware!!!!! (fwd)

[Bob Corbett <corbetre@webster.edu>]

From: Dotie Joseph <dotiej@hotmail.com>

>You don't know me, never see me, walk right by me in daylight/plain 
>sunlight/very bright I am out of sight in your eyes. Small haitian child, 
>that is what I am And as for my hunger, you don't understand And just don't 
>give a damn! At the airport, I beg for change ("changement" and money!) But 
>you look at me and think it's funny... The american dream is a nightmare 
>for me, And I, pre-zenglendo, am your social reality. At seven years old i 
>begged for food, But you yelled at me, "i'm not in the mood!" Well tell me, 
>when will be the time? When will you realize, my poverty is the crime That 
>you all commit because you don't give a shit About my begging in the 
>cathedral, Your conscience is in no way cerebral! When my sister was 
>sixteen and had just grown breasts, Her period, her menstruation, an 
>abomination she did detest... She had no kotex or tampons But was always 
>surrounded by maggots and morons Who paid five or ten dollars for an 
>overnight stay... She was the game they came to play; An object, but she 
>had me and her child to feed Since at twelve years old a Soldier planted 
>his seed Deep in her uninviting thighs And I could hear my siblings 
>adolescent cries Of pain, as her life, her virginity was being torn 
>Somewhere publicly secluded in Haitian fields of corn.
>
>Me? Now, I am 25, I rob and steal Because I have an addiction oh so real. 
>Cocaine is my adoration And there IS no rehabilitation Centers in Port Au 
>Prince or Aux Cayes, Just government verbal masturbation and lie after lie. 
>Yes, I am 25 and what else do I do? I have become the beast that they call 
>"zenglendo", Full of anger, full of rage, My mother is a blood drenched, 
>tired, social cage! I rob, and steal and kill Cuz I know that you will Not 
>help me or my evil zenglendo brothers and sisters, How will or can you ever 
>clear away the blisters In my hand, my heart and my feet? Scars I carry in 
>your Jacmel Carrefour street... When all of this is too much to bear Do you 
>know what I eventually dare? I rob churches and rape nuns With machetes 
>when I don't have guns But, if I have my 38, don't run, cuz it's already 
>too late... I'm in your window, breaking your door, forcing your daughter 
>to be my two Minute whore, I am NOT! myth, legend or mere folklore.
>
>I kill you all cuz I am high And because you had decided to rely On your 
>government to stop violence and poverty While you ignored the infected, 
>festering reality Of Cite' Soleil and La Saline Where God is not black or 
>white, but actually green.
>
>I am your product, dear mr. and mrs. "la bourgeoisie" And you cannot escape 
>me, physically or mentally. I am your prodigal son, deported at times back 
>to your land, And the devil himself is my biggest fan... I am l'enfant 
>prodige, so don't complain As I return to you some of my subconscious 
>pain... There is no pot of gold at the end of my rainbow, just burning 
>flames, Caused by your senators, your makoutes, your rich and all of their 
>silly Financial/political games.
>
>Kill me now, and I will be replaced by three others, Kill me now, but do 
>you know the number of brothers That I am giving birth to day and night, 
>Holdin it down and keepin it tight? For a hundred dollars and one pill of 
>ecstacy, I have people who will kill your whole family! Have you ever seen 
>my signature style> When I have carte blanche by politicians and police to 
>go buck wild? Make your father rape his daughter And your son rape his 
>mother, cuz i'm high on coke, Zenglendo is for real, and it ain't no 
>joke...
>
>I learned so much being locked up in sing sing and folsom, So nothing about 
>me is pure or wholesome. If you comin off of that plane you better think 
>twice, Cuz I ain't gonna ask you if you've been naughty or nice,
>
>Yes! I see you big willy style in my face on champs mars in your jeep, But 
>you don't know that i know where you sleep... I will always be in the 
>shadows of my private hell, And you can never hold me in a cell You can't 
>kill me or run from my bullet... I told you before but you wouldn't belive 
>it...
>
>Now i am here forever And death and destruction will be your only lover... 
>Come back to Haiti...I'm waiting.
>
>Reality people in a fictitious poem... "He that is without sin, let him 
>cast the first stone"
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