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,
easily
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)