by Zuri McWhorter
Roll in the birthday cake!
For on this day,
For a thousand years,
In a thousand ways.
Nothing has changed.
“They will never accept your black ass”
We’ve heard it, we’ve learned it
All they really want is
A quiet
Articulate,
Present but timid
Never saying more than what is needed
Nigga.
I mean, “black man”
An educated
Charismatic
Optimistic
Almost brilliant
Single, with no bastard children
Nigga.
I mean, “black man”
That’s their black man.
But what about my black man?
My black man is nappy
My black man gritty
My black man is happy
My black man is busy
He’s making a family
He’s feeding my soul
He’s teaching me love
He’s taken control
He’s my waltzing stupor
My cloud 9
My open heart,
My endless time
Please, don’t break my black man.
