Here is a short poem from the past. Imagine this piece read by a bushy headed, sunglass wearing (we was so cool we sometimes even wore sunglasses at night), militant.

the madpoet, mad, mad, mad
poet, the niggerpoet, the black
poet, mad, mad
how many black angels can dance on a watermelon seed
how many english teachers can fly
how many historians are white
how many records do J.B. sell for his white bosses
how many women wear wigs
how many women wear natural wigs
how many black folk vote for wallace
how many cadillacs parked in tenement lots
how many men do janitorial work in alligator shoes
how many men work
how many got alligator shoes
how many people think shelly pope is pretty
how many women with babies that look more like
their man than their husbands
how many gods do christians believe, any
how many space ships the man gon build
how many rivers and lakes still fresh water
how many black students know how to read and write
how many black students go to school
how many schools do we have
how many colleges in the city are schools
how many so-called hip people is frontin
how many cigarettes you smoke
how many fifths can you drink
how many us think we together
how many us together