and your people are let down
It rains all day -- just a mean, sorry, spiteful drizzle
and your wife’s fortune is left paltry and dry,
Her saucy humor fades and one whole day is a grimace,
mouth full of old cigarettes and stale mixed nuts.
Your long, dour face glowed from my screen
I read your name:
Africans, Veterans, Unions and Teachers wanted you
but would go home unsatiated, left with the wanting
taste of it on these lips
Under all our skin we felt pricks of early goosebumps;
still, you rose not
Rappers banged harsh words against your opponent
Spectors of youth strode,
half-somnulent,
past white obstacles in the videos.
When the lasting barriers have always worn black robes
Sheathed in precendent, cloaked in midnight decrees.
They’re still hiding behind the sheets,
and we’ve yet to awake.
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