Mr. Bullard Says Pollution is Segregated

(Photo Credit: Robert Owens)

Robert Bullard got them receipts. 
“Pollution is segregated,” he says. 
Walter Isaccson leans back and 
absorbs science. Bullard kicks the 
facts and runs down the history.
“The jig is up!” He says. 
Mr. Pollution got his grimy 
hands on the earth, 
exploiting, 

abusing, parking his large 
SUV on the other side of the tracks, 
where the HAVES and HAVE NOTS live AND breathe, 
taking drags from a cigarette, 
like he got nothing but time,
like he got the whole
world dancing to his 
devilish jazz

Mr. Pollution touches
protected people, sheltered people, 
affluent zip codes, poor folks, rich folks,
people with old money, 
pocketed by some old ways,

some wicked ways, some colonial ways;  
he touches people who surf on clouds, 
with too much money at the end of the month, 
with too many dollar bills stashed in bank 
accounts. Old boy leaves destruction 
on doorsteps. He leaves destruction 
on doorsteps, 

on doorsteps, on doorsteps,
on Black doorsteps, on Brown doorsteps, 
on Low Income doorsteps, 
on White doorsteps. 
“He don’t discriminate,” says 
Little Brother on the corner. 
“He tells no lies,” says Little Sister,
playing Hopscotch on sizzling pavement 
in the winter.

Bullard knows the score, 
exposing gaps, shining light on 
vulnerable populations. Tellin it like it is!  
Standing in the pocket. Standing on his square.
Mr. Pollution got a nasty design, sporting 
equal opportunity, like the latest 
fashion trend, striking poses, waiting 
on paparazzi, on flashes 
from cameras.  

Race and class!
Race and class!
Race and class!

Bullard says, 
“It’s bigger than what 
we tend to think.”

“We have to get on the good foot 
and wake  up!” he says.  “We are all 
at risk.” Them receipts are heavy.
 Them receipts are heavy, 
like Jimi Hendrix playing Woodstock in ’69, 
like Nipsey Hussle spitting gritty 
rhymes at a video shoot 
on a hopeless LA street, 
a shining Black prince 
giving his community 
light and a way to fix 
fragmented wings 

Robert Bullard got them receipts. 
“Pollution is segregated,” he says. 
Walter Isaccson leans back and 
absorbs science. Bullard kicks the 
facts and runs down the history. 

He says we need to act, act, act, act, ACT! 
We need to act, act, act, act, ACT! 
Before it all comes 
tumbling down.” 

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