Monday, August 13, 2018

Other Side of the Moon

Galvanized and gathered
Parks become platforms
people and purpose converge
and color is no longer monolithic
it's who we are

in between the history and hustle
I didn't sit. I stood
signed ancestors names in chalk
unmistakeable mohawk
parlaying

proving my existence adjacent to
and contextually black
but I am hellish red
burnt umber
tasting tongues behind the bathroom

laughing up pineapple spit
we shared
before the storm decided
I was way too hot
to stay

and touch that earth
with little more than poetry
Nigerian remixes
and a hunger too great for black
dollars

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