The screams of black boys drowned out by the Star Spangled Banner
“You are so fucking lucky to be born in this Country”
but those words of yours feel like
the slow tightening of the noose
Just let gravity do the rest, baby.
I can’t breathe with this fucking flag around my neck,
But my new shoes will look so good dangling from a tree.
Or perhaps the lynchings are more high tech now,
24 hour news networks whose only headline reads
“You are going to die, and no one will be watching.”
But first, the weather, right?
Or perhaps I carry my own rope
in my back pocket,
Tightly packed into slim rectangle with a glass screen.
“WATCH: There’s a boot on the back of this boys head, what happens next will leave you breathless, actually, him too!”
I wonder what teeth taste like,
No time was wasted on such trivialities in school
They were too busy convincing me that my existence
Is a burden to those around me.
Who got my back?
“Thank you Mr. Lundy, your comments are important to us, Senator _____ cares and will receive your comments.”
Oh, word? I don’t think you were listening,
Because all I did was scream into a dial-tone for
One hundred and twenty seconds.
So now I’m code-switching to feel safe,
Because my own cultural language
is disgusting I was told.
“Yo I mean, real talk, I’m tired of having to put on for these niggas, I just wanna be at home with my feet up, real shit, I’m tired. as. fuck. fam”
Watch me weave through the world and give you what little happiness I have left
without making a peep.
See motherfucker, I was always great.
I was born great.
God Bless _______.
I forgot the rest,
like the name of an ex purged from your memory.
I forgot about her,
She forgot about me.
“Man, we don’t even talk no more.”