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June 11, 2015

The suspect is a male
or if you prefer, “black”

As a boy I got picked
of if you prefer “bullied”

I agree with Smokey Robinson that
“African American” is a cop-out

Not going through puberty until
nineteen years of age is nothing to brag

I will not apologize for wanting to touch some of that hair
nor rub against that perfect ebony skin my own
My own

I am not embarrassed to admit that I’m proud of thick skin
my own will not overcome the fear of failure and

We still don’t know how to talk to defensive white people
Nor is “it” easy to explain, opting to say “go read ‘Invisible Man’
or some shit”

I’m sorry I thought you were humoring me when you didn’t know
what my cell mates in the Johnson County Jail could mean when they ordained me
“lil murderer”

Maybe in the seventies, when Mainstream therefore White appropriation of the aesthetically
superior aspects of black culture was at one of its zeniths, it was cooly ironic for dad to use the
word “nigger”.  But he introduced you to the TV adaptation of Alex Haley’s Roots, and so as
soon as your vulnerability, a sense of justice, was disclosed –had it ever been closed?– saying
“nigger” became an act of bull-y-ing you

Because bullying is subversive I found politics I mean ways in which official ethos is
implied ever so dismissively while trying to get a collective job done or ascend a kind of ladder
that may or may not reinforce the unsaid ethos, as saying I hate most women coz they are able
to sleep their way to the top, but I a straight and muscle toneless male do not have that privilege
Also the embrace of a moral bluntness

And yet, in then as opposed to now, is there a qualitative difference
in dad’s exaggerated southern drawl?

Why does it seem as if once again counter-culture can no longer take race for granted?

So close to being the only late teen I knew with hypogonadism, settled for ill, observation-less

And I forever complain
of how the black women in these last few…well,
since legal desegregation
cave into the (popular?) demands
of straightening their hair

Anyhow the lack of pubic
hair haunted me to and from the locker
room, I would treat myself to those
thoughts like medicine whose effects I’ll
not feel or brand of drugs

The suspect is a white cop
whom the fourteen year old girl will never forget
The witness doesn’t want or need a sufferer
“no one
bears witness for the
So, ambulance chaser is an effective meme.
Again: the ambulance doesn’t just leave it at the third wheel
You have my permission to my future autopsy report
which will not say anything about the injustices experienced by
those living with hypogonadism

The suspect is black and male
All of his friends are probably black
All of my thoughts are trying to
effortlessly this time
see color
To not even say working class without cringing
It is the widest net to cast
and get away with being clueless of the fact that
we stick to our own pretending not to think
we stick to our own we stick to our own
and it makes it sadder that we need more than our loved ones


From → Poetry

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