Nikki, Nikki, Nikki

Okay, so maybe she shouldn’t have called him a son of a bitch. The phrase, while in keeping with poetic license did not measure up to Cincinnati’s public civility level. But calling him a political whore is an understatement. The man is a skanky ho, plain and simple.

Nikki doesn’t lie and she doesn’t mince words which is why we love her. She has not sold her soul to the highest bidder, like a certain democrat turned charterite, turned republican turned conservative, turned far right conservative card-carrying allegedly Christian wannabe governor of Ohio.

She speaks the truth, whether you like it or not, whether you want to hear it or not. Her integrity is unquestioned. She is our poet laureate.

One of the myths that is circulating during this election run up is that all blacks are going to support Blackwell. He believes it. Well, it is simply not true. His skin color is chameleon at best and will not save him come November. He lost his “Negro membership card” a long time ago.

So he can take his place alongside Orenthal James Simpson, J. C. Watts, Alan Keys and Clarence Thomas as those who use their blackness when necessary, while at the same time running away from it. The term “oreo” comes to mind, but I said I wouldn’t call names today.

When our Poetic High Priestess speaks we must listen. She sees things as they are and says so honestly and in a completely refreshing manner.

Write on, Nikki
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