By Taylor Drake
The quote that the poem references starts at 13:15.
On July 4th of last year, I saw a clip of Charles Mingus giving a powerful quote about the Pledge of Allegiance and what he pledges allegiance to on my Instagram feed. I knew it was something that I just had to keep in my back pocket. As the year ran down and our political landscape began to reveal the scarred face of White Supremacy once again, the Jazz great’s words only rang louder. Going into 2025, I restarted my interest in open mic nights/poetry events. What I admire most about the Seattle poetry slam community is that its best and brightest have a quiver full of statements that speak directly to the soul of America’s many habits and contradictions.
I felt that was the one thing missing from my artistic output. I tend to hide behind metaphors and flowery language while speaking vaguely about serious topics. A great example is when I bombed at Inside Seattle poetry and sip, but that’s a post for another day. I needed a piece that lists all the sins of America, and I wanted to do it similarly to Gil Scott Heron’s “The Ghetto Code.” A poem that is a borderline essay, exploring an idea with plenty of twists, turns, and is not afraid to have a laugh on the journey.
I’m proud to say this took time. I wanted to give this a very grounded and Black perspective. That’s why I draw the lines so boldly around my disdain for all things that involve white supremacy and its many tools; the use of capitalism as a means to scam people into thinking that they deserve less, the fake gurus and grifters who sell a fantasy of wealth on the same level as the Scientology cult.
I also wanted to point the gun at myself, as a person living in an ill society, I acknowledge that my ideals towards women weren’t always right. Ideology similar to that of Umar Johnson, convinced me that women are not to be trusted when coming forward with their stories of mistreatment. I blindly followed faux pro black figures (hoteps) and cast judgment on Black women who did not yield to the idea that Black men are helpless babies and cannot oppress their female counterparts. After a while, I realized that I was thinking less like Malcolm X or Dr. King and more like Ben Shapiro, a racist who can’t get his wife wet in a bathtub. I had to shame all the evil men like Diddy on the list at the end, to exercise the little ghoul within me.