Bigotry in My Bones

Bigotry in my Bones.

I can’t see what I can’t see,

The pink marrow,

the many times

of the bloodlines

slow drip,

Unseen nutrients

build strong bones,

calcify ideas

of an other,

oh, the many others,

not like me.

Long lines of generations before

suckled on unworthiness,

nourished by invisible shame,


shaken by the unfamiliar,

the mis-perceived threat.

This survivalistic stance annihilates in order to exist.

The unsubstantial ground

saturated by the slow drip from the vessels of unseen lives.

This dis-ease, the bone, the brain

trains its site,

lets travel the mind’s contorted confusion on the speed of a bullet.

Landing there, what belongs here,

No-Thing Dis-Covered

No-Thing Changed

Until white people face their own unseen pain, they will always need a ‘negro’ (James Baldwin)

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