I have darker brothers.
They eat in the kitchen,
But only because it’s also the dining room.
I eat there too,
Two white sisters,
And two beautiful black brothers.
If you were in our kitchen,
You might passively peek
Out the window,
Past the birdfeeder,
And catch the edges of a Confederate flag
Hanging over the neighbor’s’ porch.
Recently we had to talk with my brothers
About how no one,
Is allowed to call them the
I’ve written you to strike a deal:
If I take a class on your poetry,
If I learn all I can
And cram for this test called “diversity” that I thought I could
Pass without trouble but actually contains a lot of surprise sections
And an essay on the back….
Will you teach my brothers how to be black men?
I tell them they’re beautiful,
But it’s easy for me to say,
So it’s hard for them to hear.
My words may warm them,
But they will not save them.
Replace blankets, maybe,
But not stop bullets.
Please speak to them.
For I would pale to Hughes.
One thought on “To Langston”
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