The Old South which was dead and buried
Like some zombie or vampire now
Has clawed its way to light—Jim Crow
Dressed in disseminations varied.
Like a rude hand from out the grave
The old Confederacy clawed and clawed,
Flinging aside the moldering clod,
Its skin supremacies to save.
A black man who was president
Put forth a nominee for judge,
But the secesh states bore a grudge,
As right procedure nowhere went.
The confirmation hearing stalled—
Rather aborted—justice was
Short circuited, and that because
Imposter Gorsuch then was called.
He took the seat; and Mitchell gloated,
Protector of “states’ rights” and all
(The right to unpaid labor)—gall
The cause to which Mitch was devoted.
To “put that negro in his place”
Was Mitch McConnell’s senate’s goal,
Regardless Justice lose a soul
Or Rule of Law itself deface.
Yea, the Confederacy starts to dig
Itself from ignominious death;
The undead rise, with clay cold breath,
And Gorsuch offers up a fig.
Oh, tell me what Marie Laveau
Can offer the right incantation
To change heart of abomination?
What wooden stake be driven through?
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