We dance and sing Jackson’s Thriller,
attempting to rile the black whore
cracked out against the trestle fencing.
Camera full zoom, she yells
“Ya’ll niggas on some anti-horny shit!”
My buddy and I buckle in laughter.
“Don’t be deceived,” I tell the viewer.
“Our subject, species toothless-wonder,
is not just spewing nonsense here.
This is an attempt to attack us
for not treating her as sex object
the way real men are supposed to.”
She points at me through the lens
and looks over at my buddy.
“That’s a real anti-horny ass nigga!”