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Hell to the Redskins MAG
Crack! I think I am going to throw up,
In an instant bones are shaken.
The fibula and tibia taken.
My dad slack-jawed and in shock.
Thirty-three years to the day.
Theismann to Smith – no, that’s not a play.
Our Sunday loves:
Football, Faith, and Family
Super Bowl lost eternally.
Thanksgiving is upon us.
Mother says, “It’s just a game.”
Mother says, “They need to change
their name.”
After the celebrations, we watch our movie.
After our movie, we celebrate Black Friday;
White washing Native American Day.
My football team, the Washington Redskins, is a pit of misery. I'm writing this poem to express my disdain for the ownership and management of the team. And the fact that they still haven't changed their name which is offensive to the Native Americans. I'm also throwing shade at their hashtag, #HTTR, which stands for "Hail to the Redskins". I changed it to "Hell to the Redskins". Happy Thanksgiving everyone!