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"Material Girl: Olive Voile" from the graphic series "Men (and Women) of the Cloth: Profiles in Textiles" by Ulysses Poe chemical markers on prepared cotton fabric
attached to mounted canvas
16" by 20" |
'N' word, schmen word! What about
'C' words and 'O' words...not to mention
the additional baker's dozen initialed
cultural IEDs planted below?
I used to call 'em 'slaves,'
singin,' "Boom-a-lack-a-lack...!"
I used to call 'em slaves
which I took as short for 'black.'
Then Brother West purr'd 'twould be best
if I'd right quick fall back.
I used to call ‘em 'cripples,'
singin' “La-dee-do-dum-day.”
I used to call ‘em 'cripples'
‘cuz they tripp'd 'n' flipp'd that way.
Today they’re call’d 'disabled persons.'
(So: what did I say...?)
I used to call 'em 'old folks' homes.'
Sing "Tur-a-lur-a-lur..."!
I used to call 'em 'old folks homes.'
Their inmates...? Plu-mature!
'Assisted living domiciles'
where nurses "has-beens" cure.
I used to call 'em 'orientals.'
Sing "Carroo-carray"!
I call'd 'em 'orientals' 'cuz they
hail'd from out that way.
But now I call 'em 'Asians.'
(They're still almond-eyed, okay...?)
I used to call ‘em 'coloreds,'
singin' “Wop-a-lop-bam-boom”!
I used to call ‘em 'coloreds'
‘cuz they brighten’d up the gloom.
(Who still must write of 'coloreds'
ought best use a nom-de-plume.)
I used to wish 'em 'Merry Christmas.'
Sing "Hip-hip-hurray!"s!
But now it's 'Season's Greetings' --
that or 'Happy Holidays.'
(I'll skip that mess and just finesse
my Ebenezer phase.)
I used to call all women 'girls.'
Sing “Chitty-chitty-bang”!
I used to call ‘em 'girls,' which stirr'd
such sturm. What's more, such drang.
('Tis best to call ‘em 'women' now,
to dodge your girl's harangue.)
I used to call 'em 'homos,'
singin' "Day-o, me-say-day."
I call'd 'em 'homosexuals,'
but now I call 'em 'gay.'
L...! G, B...! T, Q...! I, A...! P, K...!
Be that as it may...
I used to call it 'Frisco,'
singin' "Citee by the ba-a-ay."
I figur'd 'Frisco''d be the lingo
San Franciscans say.
But now I dodge that whole hodge-podge
and visit Monterey.
I used to call 'em 'niggardly.'
Sing "Ja-da-ja-da-jing"!
I call'd 'em 'niggardly' when they
proved stingy with the bling.
But most misunderstood,
so now I don't say anything.
I used to call 'em 'Indians.'
Sing "Ob-bla-de, bla-da"!
I used to call 'em 'Indians' --
each brave, papoose 'n' squaw.
They're now 'indigenous personas.'
(Cf. Murphy's Law.)
'Retarded''s what I used to call 'em.
Sing "A-lack-a-boom"!
'Retarded' -- as they'd sit sedated
in their rubber room.
Still, better that than layin' flat,
encoffin'd in their tomb.
I used to call ‘em 'mongoloids.'
Sing “Ro-ma-roh-ma-ma”!
I used to call ‘em 'mongoloids.'
Now that's against the law.
They simply live with Down syndrome.
(Drum that -drome down your
craw!)