Uncle Sammy don’t shuck and jive me,

I’m hip the popcorn jazz changes you blow,

You know damn well what I mean,

You school my naive heart to sing

red-white-and-blue-stars-and-stripes songs and to pledge eternal allegiance to all things blue, true, blue-eyed blond, blond-haired, white chalk white skin with U.S.A. tattooed all over,

When my soul trusted Uncle Sammy,

Loved Uncle Sammy,

I died in dreams for you Uncle Sammy,

Died in dreams playing war for you Uncle Sammy,

No, I don’t want to hear that crap,

You jam your emasculate manhood symbol, puff with Gonorrhea,

Gonorrhea of corrupt un-realty myths into my ungreased, nigger ghetto, black-ass, my Jewish-Cappy-Hindu-Islamic-Sioux-sure, free public health penicillin cured me,

But Uncle Sammy if you want to stay a freak-show strongman god,

Fuck your motherfucking self,

I will not serve.

________________________________________________________________________________

– The anti-war poem Bobby Seale recited in May 1966 on an Oakland street…