I don’t understand why they don’t understand

My poem...or what I have to say...

It’s as plain as day...and

My brown skin accentuates 

does not negate

my brilliance

So why

Do they not get it...?

Where must all the colored poets go...

 

On the member wall...

I see no faces like my face...and probably

The only reason I want to join the damn foundation

Is cuz it seems like I ain’t welcome...

 

Maybe it’s in the way I flow...

The way I string my words together...just so....

That they know

...it’s that same worrisome brown girl

Knocking on the door again...

and actually expecting

Entrance...

I don’t understand why they don’t understand

My poem...or what I have to say...

It's as plain as day...

 

Maybe they don’t let me in cuz they

Don’t want folks to know

that they DO know all about

The nature of addiction...and maybe even

Visualize the elderly whore...

And they sho don’t want

To have to think about

Can’t find no job...or barely gettin by...or lonely drug dealin mommies...

No...it ain’t about trees...and leaves...and babbling brooks...

But its my story...sometimes our story...and it’s real...

So I’ma tell it to my damn self...cuz where else do I tell it...?

Where do all the colored poets go...?