poem by Rasuli
Babylon raid I blue dance
Someone mass grass up
Why then the popo show up at the entrance
and mash everyone into a pulp
Dey come and pack upfront
By de main door and order everyone around
They cover the backway with their boys and baton
and restrain the patrons to the ground
They drink up de bar
and empty de till
they eat up de jar
the slap me with a hefty bill
Down at the station
I cyan believe what a tell a lie
and mek a big deal out of the situation
The squealer mass have an eye of the pie in the sky
I get a week of community service
Down at the fisherman's wharf
scooping murk with a spatula device
A heap a stunk dunk a dwarf
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