I like being called "brother"
by black men. I like walking past
Land of the Pharaohs
& being invited in by the brothers
to bless them with a poem.
"Brothers," I say, "brothers,
please no keyboards, no congas,
let me lay something white & uptight
on you brothers." I recite my poem
about Martians & Geiger counters,
its conclusion an ironic invitation
to Jesus to drop by some morning
for coffee. They hate it.
The brothers hate it
but they're polite, not like Kerouac
at the Living Theater
heckling Frank O'Hara
or the Academy Awards audience
mocking poor Sally Fields
when she said "You
like me! You really do
like me!" The brothers forgive me
as they'd forgive a flying nun
who alighted among them
& roosted, preening, while a brother
recited his hip-hop poem called
"Kill the White Muthafuckers."
Jefferson CARTER
First published in SENTIMENTAL BLUE,
Chax Press
Thursday, October 2, 2008
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2 comments:
Sue Ann, thanks for printing this. However, the last line is wrong! I was stumped when I reached the end.
It should read "the White Muthafuckers." Love, JC
JC,
You see how attentive I am to my own blog? It's the end of November and I've just discovered your comment. Thanks for guiding me...it's important to differentiate between the various Muthafuckers of the world. I have inserted the word "white" and am sorry for the long delay. Next time find another way to alert me!
Sue
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