The diamonds on Liz’s bosom
are not as bright
as his eyes
the morning they took him
to work in the mines
The rubies in Nancy’s
jewel box (Oh, how he
loves red!)
not as vivid
as the despair
in his children’s
frowns.
Oh, those Africans!
Everywhere you look
they’re bleeding
and crying
Crying and bleeding
on some of the whitest necks
in your town.