Because it’s #ThrowbackThursday: “Snapshot of a Pseudo-Revolutionary Poetry Reading,” circa 1995

A snippet of this poem is also in my book Bird of Paradise…
Snapshot of a Pseudo-Revolutionary Poetry Reading
Entered the room full of my brothers and sisters
Beautiful faces
Different shades of Black and Brown races
But those faces hint traces
of hate when I enter the place
Guess my hair is too straight

 

But I’m Black                                    as Black as my master permitted
From Spain, the man was acquitted
Of the crimes he committed against my ancestors
Against my tatarabuela
But people give muela
When I enter the place                        like I was a disgrace to my race
And welcome me with shade to make me seem darker
Más oscura, que locura
nunca puede ser . . .

 

I say, “Peace, sis”
To the woman at the door
She snaps, “Whatever, five dollars please”
Like she was my pimp and I was her whore
Funny how our complexions were exactly the same
But she sported fashionable dreadlocks
Host is deep
Eyes glaring staring in confusion
Disillusioned if he thinks
Black is that monotonous
After the show, though
He and other pseudo-revolutionary-Peter-Pan-Africans
Cluster and talk about Black unity at the door
While drinking bottles of Heineken
 Raquel Cepeda © 1995