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fast city slowing
in this city
i memorize sirens
and over-analyze why men's
clothes seem to suit me
boot me into a state of androgyny
where they be dodging me
like the virus
as my prodigy status expires
realizing that the talented tenth
is bigger here
and "OH MY GOD!"
i'm just another nigga here
and a swig of beer isn't enough
to suppress my depression
i need to address my oppression
in these fucked-up days
i must find productive ways
to express my aggression
because the competition is fierce
but the opposition is worse
forces me to rehearse my lines
speak in free verse and rhyme
wonder if they'll reverse the verdict
or if i'm just crazy
this city splits me into personalities--
multiples of myself
my health is not an issue
in this city
and of course, race is NEVER an issue
as taxi drivers race to tear tissue
from my thighs as their eyes
seek out the white knight
i remain out of sight
in this city
where being pretty
may work for some
but being shitty seems to work
for everyone
and so this city
has sculpted my face
into a chiseled grimace
i am not a work of art
but a menace to society
quietly waiting to explode
assume the next mode
of my existence seems
my resistance is futile
this new style of white power
be having me like oooh chile
and things ain't ever gone be easy
they throw me bones just to tease me
ease me into complacency
convince me that this
is the place to be
while blatantly erasing me
in this city
where every white man has a dog
i guess as an attempt to link themselves
to an inkling of humanity
amid the pollution and the profanity
the police and their brutality
i am afraid to spit on the sidewalk
yet dogs must shit on the sidewalk
for lack of grass
and it's the owner, not the dog
who is trained to attack my ass
because in his eye
i am the enemy
and like my grandmother's memory
my sanity is quickly fading
wicked thoughts keep invading my mind
in this city
you might find me on the subway
thimbles on every finger
knitting scriptures into bobwire
feeding bible pages to the bonfire
glowing in my belly
this fast city is slowing
and the wise ones tell me
that poetry is the difference
between knowing and telling
between flowing and yelling
between going hungry and selling
your life's work for a hamburger
i am murder
contemplating
it's innocence
in
this
city
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