Conversation With Baldwin

by Anastacia-Reneé

Children have never been very good at listening to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them.

we negros walk the path of self enlightenment
sweaty-holding brick light bulbs
with tiny watching white men as switch
                  on                    off
let them mark us in the day
with this thing & that thing
& this is what i mean to say when i say negro
say negro as in not black
but not human
& this is what i mean to say when i say nigger
as in not black & not human
& this is what i mean when i say walk the path
for the path is not a path
but a thorny renditition of woodsy

what i mean to say is we walk it
while running with out cerebellum shoes untied
as in we do not take heed
on                    off
we do not listen to what we are hearing (on the flipside)
as in do you hear me
as in are you listening
as in if you call upon me i will tell you my story
as in my story could be your story
if you only read what i was (not) about
but you as in your generation do not read anymore
your lifes s(spores) germinated atop links
& htmls & videos & i mean to say
i am not judging you but i am

& i wonder fellow children of my alphabet fucking
if you really miss me the way you say you do
if you really hold me in high esteem
on                    off
the way you do your coveted internet
if you would snatch me from a burning building
or watch my baldwin burn there
on your minimalist couch


Poem copyright 2018 by Anastacia-Reneé. All rights reserved.

See more poems from Anastacia-Reneé debuted on The Fight & The Fiddle:
on being free and The Mother Ship is Purple

Read more in this issue: Interview | Critical Essay | Writing Prompt

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