This poem was inspired by the Oval Office press conference Elon Musk dominated as co-president, with his little kids, X and Donnie Trump, fidgeting as Elon droned on. Of course, a South African immigrant in the White House seamed a worthy fit. There is untolled irony of a white billionaire naming everything “X” (including his son), when historically “X” has been used in the African diaspora for those who don’t know their family name, only a slave name given to them. Musk, the stench of wealth, played the roll of an immigrant coming for your job, delineating the end game of literally owning the libs — and all others. The only good news is that slavery has 100% employment. His diarrheal demagoguery exemplified that little payin’ for the benefit of the long runs…
Little Feat
Welkom to the white hows
We’d herd
The pitter patter of little feat
Where X marks the spot
With crayon treasure maps
The spawn of apartheid
The diversity of Afrikaners
And the repugnant musk of billion heirs
Those immigrants coming
For your job
Engendering wons
And lots of zeroes
As sum kind
Of binary code
A continuum of heir transplants
And jacked up jaw lyin’s
Making a man
More or less
As if
Sum how productive
Welkom to the porcelain throne
Built by slaves
Occupied
Buy johns of awe stripes
Miscegenating with orange and green
And US be getting
The color of shit
On the genocide
Of even the caricature
Of first nations
NOTE: Elon Musk has had gender affirming care; that is, hair transplants and jawline surgery, making him more or less a man in his binary world.
