“is you are?”
“i’m is.”
where to begin
without blaming
without belittling...
but what’s really wrong
with a dose
of insecurity?
i cut my teeth on it
earned two degrees because of it
and because you don’t know me
you haven’t a clue
my life has not been effortless
you obviously
suffer from a sense
of self-esteem on steroids
now, there’s a concept
the symptoms could be
entertaining
if they weren’t just sad
at 13, you’ve earned a graduate degree
in pump that ass
turning a simple walk down the hallway
into a sexual history of oppressed peoples
your body hums
unable to simply occupy a chair
without elaborate arm movements
and coordinating gyrations
your brain tied up with rhythm
and the darkly beautiful music video bodies
your bible, your secret handshake, your entry
into the clannishly small world you’ve chosen
you use language
as a defense
arguing it shouldn’t matter
how you say something
but would be appalled
if similar logic
were applied to your dance
you decorate your blank papers
with lists of ghetto hos
your bff’s—the only words you spell correctly
without too much effort
unaware hopelessly indefatigably unaware
of a larger context
you grab the spotlight with a voice
totally incapable of subtlety
but totally articulate in loud and raucous
you waste your words with anger and slights
imagined or purposeful
nothing exists outside
your overblown emotion of the moment—
which only works
in direct proportion to the size
of the gathered crowd
your strength grows out of
your inability to perform
the lower the skill level
the bigger the posturing
blaming successful adults
for holding you back
for not helping you
though getting a word in edgewise
is akin to solving world hunger
the cycle of failure wins again
you ax me
and when the hood is bad
it’s killah
--Katherine M. Searle
29 January 2008
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