Afro-Caribbean Knock Knock

 

Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
A truth universe
A truth universe who?
A truth universally acknowledged that if you are,

brown and at home during the day you must be,

doing the devil’s work.

Knock, Knock!
Who’s there?
Voodoo.
Voodoo who?
Voodoo you think you are? I’m the social worker,

and you’re Afro-Caribbean,

and unemployed,

so open up,

let me see if your children are still alive.

Knock Knock
Who’s there?
Abyssinia!
Abyssinia who?
Abyssinia behind bars one of these days!

Knock, knock,
Who’s there?
Jocasta,
Jocasta who?
Jocasta the pretty girl who goes with the rasta.

Knock, knock,
Who’s there?
Jocasta’s rasta.
Jocasta’s rasta who?
Jocasta’s rastafari,
but mi near eye is on you blood!

Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
ManU,
ManU who?
ManU crossed the road to get away from,

earlier this afternoon.
State your business!
You are the 1000th person who crossed the road,

when I came along. You win a prize.
Which is? (I’m not going to like this am I?)
Which is  …  the opportunity to explain what you feel,

inside,
when you do that and then to compare that feeling,

to what I feel when it is done to me a 1000,

times when I walk along the street.

And finally one for the road.

Why don’t Afro-Caribbeans dream anymore?

I don’t know.

Why don’t Afro-Caribbeans dream anymore?

End

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