I hesitate to name your name,
For I shrink from obscenity.
I hope you feel white,
After pilloring a child before a snarling pack
Of yellow-bellied swine, who after all,
Were whiter at heart than you, John Kelley.
You should feel proud, Honorable sir,
For the dung you have cast into the faces
Of the American people;
For the blow you have dealt at American womanhood,
And the woman-hood of your own color and race,
You have betrayed the women of your race,
And if you had the soul of a man instead of a hog,
Your dreams would be haunted by dim shapes
And quivering shadows,
By tear-dimmed eyes and pale faces and slender white hands,
By all the dim women down all Eternity,
Who suffered and passed through the red portals of Hell
To give you being, John Kelley.
This is my word to you,
And may you remember it.
It is my hope that your yellow-bellied pets
Will deal with you some day as you have dealt with your own
That they will nail you into a barrel
Full of razor blades
And roll you down a hill into hell, John Kelley.