No Queens in the Kingdom
Suppose
Just suppose
That all the rappers
All the rappers who ever used the words “bitch” or “ho” in a song
Controlled the United States government
Suppose
That this rapper government sent out police
Special units dressed in sweats and backwards baseball caps
Sent them into every neighborhood
To arrest any woman who wasn’t acting “properly”
Suppose
That this government of all the rappers who ever used the words “bitch” or “ho” in a song
Refused to allow women to vote
Or to drive
Or to go to school
Or to get a divorce
Or to ever leave the house
This is just a fantasy, right?
The over-heated product of my fevered imagination
You wish
Take out the hip-hop part
And hop on over to Saudi Arabia
And you’ll find that this sick fantasy is alive and well
For Saudi women
All 14 million of them
They aren’t allowed to vote
Or to drive
Or to go to school
Or to get a divorce
Or to ever leave the house
This is terrible but it doesn’t affect you, does it?
Hey, Saudi Arabia is 8,300 miles away
What goes on there doesn’t affect you, does it?
You wish
Our government
The real one of corporations, not rappers
Our government
Has given over three hundred billion dollars to the Saudi royal family
To preserve the status quo there
That’s your money
When you get paid
Under deductions
It should say
“Saudi Royal Family”: $42 a week
Every time you see a library close in America
Or a school go without books
Or a hospital downsize
Think of how your taxes are spent
Saudi Arabia may be 8,300 miles away
But it’s also smack dab in the middle of your neighborhood
Our government
The real one of corporations, not rappers
Our government
Dresses our sons and daughters in fatigues
And sends them to Saudi Arabia
Where bombers bomb them and snipers snipe them
Three hundred billion dollars covered in blood and oil
Our leaders choke these Arabs with dollahs
Then when the blowback comes they blame it on Allah
When the man in uniform comes to your door to say
“I regret to inform you…”
You scream
The Saudi women scream
Because without our sons and daughters and dollars
The royal family would be overthrown
In a heartbeat
And Saudi women’s hearts would beat again
And your son’s heart would beat again
But what about the women here in America?
What about these words “bitch” and “ho”?
We want uplift
A different world, if you get my drift
But we’ve got no power
Those of us underpaid by the hour
We only have power
Over what we choose to listen to
Or what we choose to say
What about our leaders who have all the power?
Misogyny has many progeny
When you ask these leaders
Why did my daughter get killed in Saudi Arabia
And my niece amputated in Iraq?
When you ask these leaders
Why can’t my wife get health care?
When you ask these leaders
Why does my mother go hungry?
They answer:
It’s your songs, your lyrics, your images
Don’t ask us to get involved in bigger scrimmages
Til you clean up your act
When our leaders run this game
We believe them
We receive them
With respect they’ve never earned
When words mean more to us
Than a woman from Jalisco
Raped by the Border Patrol and left to die in the Arizona desert
Then yes, we must admit
It’s time to clean up our act
Poem / 2008