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