This poem would like to start with“ Thank you.”
This poem would like to start with“ Thank you.”
This poem appreciates your patience and acceptance even though at this point you have no idea what this poem is about.
This poem would like to offer you the occasional word count for your convenience: forty-five and counting and you’ re still here.( Thank you.)
This poem wants to shake your hand wants to pat you on the shoulder is resisting the urge to offer a full embrace just incase you’ re not comfortable with that.
This poem does not want to get too personal. Doesn’ t want to unravel you like thread off your jacket, wants to ask“ Hey where’ d you get that jacket?” not“ Why you always dress so clean?” or“ What do mean America? Where are you really from?” and no“ C’ mon, you have to be mixed.” No this poem does not want to do this.
This poem wants to be a happy poem offer you a smile hoping you’ ll offer a smile back.( if not, that’ s fine) Why attack you with words?- one hundred seventy one and counting- Still having fun? Okay
this poem won’ t even mention security
like the guards in front of libraries that need to see your i. d. or a new friend that hears you speak and decides your hometown must be white or the white boy that dresses like a flyboy and says to your face i’ m trying to look more jive or the five officers looking for a suspicious character and need to see your i. d. or the roommates when something breaks and you’ re the one always left holding the broom or the elevator in the conference hall where people pause even though come in, there’ s plenty of room or the cops that can’ t believe you teach here and need to see your i. d. in order to keep the neighborhood safe and just to be safe
28 african Voices