Shave off my eyebrows as an act of demolition leave no roots to grow let sweat beads know this is a law of prohibition against the curse I want to be the last one on earth and yet the first to birth a warrior generation all colors all sizes all shapes and variations of a people whose DNA serves as an abbreviation of perfect
Simply
I want to love without working
I want to kiss the thickly oiled pus inhabitating pimpled t-zones of anglo saxon adolescent girls and tell them they’re beautiful just after they’ve reached out and grabbed one of my locs only to ask me if my natural hair is artificial
I want to eat lunch with the friendless 14 year old boy caged in elementary special ed class Immediately following him walking me arms pinned in front of the boys during recess asking them how should he **** my ***
I want to tell him of a Savior That can mold him greater than his absentee father or molesting godmother that has affected his behavior
I want to wrap my arms of comfort around the shoulders of every insecure woman that was confident enough to tell me men would only see me as *** but never as beautiful I want to reach my go-go-super me hand in and choke the life out of the wormy wretched murderous spirit that eats their lives I want to starve its lies leaving it to die by granting the grace of a new name befriend them with but a call and response game-
Me: “those who look to HIM are radiant!” Them: “their faces are never covered with shame!”
I want to sound the finger snap hand clap heard round the world while giving a standing ovation to all of the open mic night writers that hid their jagged daggers in a cloak of being truthful saying my words and antics scored high for the stage But for the page this thing I should think twice about calling poetry would never ever be suitable
I want to carry the little white boy on my hip while singing The rendition of “You Are My Sunshine” that I sing to my kids just after he hurls “******” in my direction in a vile attempt to reduce me from perfection I’ll teach him that the coned sheet his father keeps neat and breaks out for story time at night is but a cry for help that the most important thing he could ever do with his life is to recognize others as his brothers and sisters and to love them even as he would love himself I’ll tell him communication isn’t erasable and before he speaks he should remember to care I’ll give him a lollipop then fly through the galaxy to land on a planet where I’ll purchase every CD created featuring John Mayer
I’ll speak and smile at every cop That’s harassed brown people
I’ll drop an offering in the basket of preachers that think I can’t deliver the Word because as a woman in ministry I’m not equal
If mine eyes can see my shell’s end I’ll make love to my husband in a way his second wife would never be able to transcend even if earlier it was his day off but instead of living it with me he chose to leave me alone with our kids
If loving without working is tough as a glass jar of vlasic dill pickles I want to pop the lid
As soon as offenses are committed my earnest desire is to be super me