The Hunting Game
A poem about America’s White domestic terrorists. A poem about how White Supremacists hunt Black and Brown people for no reason.


The Hunting Game
The hunting game
The targets may look different
But the intent remains the same
Stalk the Blacks
Hunt the Browns
Kill the Blacks
And kill those Browns
It’s the game White men love to play
From a very young age
Big, older, evil hunters teach
Future, youthful, evil hunters to prey
To play with guns
And to kill stuff
It starts with paper
It ends with blood
Killing for White thrills
It’s his rite of passage
Make himself look strong
By making us look weak
That’s the gist of
Their hunting game
The hunter looks the same
He never changes his name
Not his words
Nor his actions
Nor his motives
And never his privilege
The hunter gets to kill and live
To go to jail
And become a martyr
For White Supremacy
H e buys guns
He picks fights
Finding solitude among
Other fragile hunters
Just like himself
Hunting anything
And everything
Non-white
Because hunting is in his blood
And killing is his favorite sport
H e hunts the colors to
Kill dreams
Kill parents
Kill babies
Kill opportunities
Kill the colors
Snatch life
Incite fear
Ignite hate
Every day
In some horrific way
Seeking better hunting grounds
To advance the hunting games
From Africa, to South America
To America
This centuries old game
Never ceases
Low White men
Do the bidding of
The lowest White men
Hunting color for them
As they’re robbed
Of their money and their small minds
The small-minded hunters
Upholding White lies
Beating weak chests
Clutching scary hearts
Covering deaf ears
Angry at their
Little hands
Little dicks
Small brains
Hunting me,
Hunting you
Hurts himself
Destroys our worlds
So that he
May keep
His unearned place
The hunters may look different
But their cries all
Sound the same
Jews will not replace us
They are taking our stuff
Speak English
It’s changing
It’s too brown
They are dangerous
I hate them
They seem happy
They are taking our place
It’s too many of them
They are breeders
No reason, just because
Fill in the blank
Those others will accrue power
No one else should have
They are taking over, and
They, and they, and they,
And they, and they,
Must be stopped
Killed
In cold blood
In the name of
His birthright
His fake supremacy
We are more dangerous? Yeah right.
This miserable hunter
Has an insatiable hunger
For the blood of others
Killing the least of us
Embodying the ugliest of them
Every time he plays their game
It’s the game many White men play
But are too dumb to realize
No one
Ever wins
The hunting game
©2019 Marley K. All rights reserved.