I will not go to Charlottesville
To join in with the mob
Which comes with chanted slogans shrill
As passions seethe and throb—
Of “Blood and soil!” and “White men’s right”
To “Take this country back!”
As store-bought torches light the night
Preparing for attack.
They fight for the slaveholder’s creed,
The right to live a dream
In which the law might intercede
To bolster self-esteem;
To argue, I am better than
Another by my skin,
As lets me call another man
The reason for my sin.
A kind of Christian terrorist—
This each man wants to be
Expressing, by raised torch, raised fist,
A solidarity.
I will not go to Charlottesville
To join in with the mob,
But to rebuke it, that I will,
However it may lob
Its insults, execrations, bombs,
At those brave citizens
Who stand for peace and not pogroms,
For love, not violence.
For such as feel deserving of
Some special dispensation,
However they may shout and shove,
Will not define my nation.
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