By R. A. Christmas Thank God—because my sweet grandpa admired Senator Bob Taft, disliked FDR, and was all for “shipping the Negroes back to Africa,” and my sour grandpa would back me into a corner of his warehouse, and tell me I didn’t know how to work, and why he hated the …
By R. A. Christmas
Thank God—because my sweet grandpa admired
Senator Bob Taft, disliked FDR, and was all for
“shipping the Negroes back to Africa,”
and my sour grandpa would back me into a corner
of his warehouse, and tell me I didn’t know how
to work, and why he hated the Teamsters.
And thank God (again) my folks unknowingly
let me sleep-over at my best friend’s house, whose
parents were “pinko-commie-sympathizers”
who took us swimming (naked) in the Pauling’s
pool, with the ladies cracking up when my friend
fell asleep in the sun and sprang a hard-on,
where I came to love Weavers and Paul Robeson
records, and saw his mom dance in their kitchen
when “Misha” made bail for the Hollywood Ten,
where I learned (in ‘48) that Nixon was a tricky
dick, and us boys sang “This Land is Your Land”
to the Tubman Society (a front)—all of which
in a wacked-out way prepared me to later accept
and follow the greatest 19th century socialist
of them all, the Mormon prophet Joseph Smith,
who ran for President, promised to end slavery,
and infamously said, “I intend to lay a foundation
that will revolutionize the whole world.” Amen.
https://www.sunstonemagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/Christmas-aud.mp3
Thank God—because my sweet grandpa admired
Senator Bob Taft, disliked FDR, and was all for
“shipping the Negroes back to Africa,”
and my sour grandpa would back me into a corner
of his warehouse, and tell me I didn’t know how
to work, and why he hated the Teamsters.
And thank God (again) my folks unknowingly
let me sleep-over at my best friend’s house, whose
parents were “pinko-commie-sympathizers”
who took us swimming (naked) in the Pauling’s
pool, with the ladies cracking up when my friend
fell asleep in the sun and sprang a hard-on,
where I came to love Weavers and Paul Robeson
records, and saw his mom dance in their kitchen
when “Misha” made bail for the Hollywood Ten,
where I learned (in ‘48) that Nixon was a tricky
dick, and us boys sang “This Land is Your Land”
to the Tubman Society (a front)—all of which
in a wacked-out way prepared me to later accept
and follow the greatest 19th century socialist
of them all, the Mormon prophet Joseph Smith,
who ran for President, promised to end slavery,
and infamously said, “I intend to lay a foundation
that will revolutionize the whole world.” Amen.