naw she didn’t care, and she was the smartest kid in class. well, the second smartest, since we got there

we had to let her know what’s up, and she was round headed and beautiful like a perfectly formed biscuit, only burnt…

We came home singing that playground rhyme we’d memorized and moms stopped us, again with that face adults get when they’re not quite giving you all the information.

yeah what was up with that?

“Say that in front of Brother Benson”

The Pastor of our little church who inadvertently killed what could have been our early artistic period. Who was also

African American

a fight, a fight
a nigger and a white

what’s the big deal? it’s just poetry