See
He’s still in the single digits 
and thinks the uterus 
is part of the rhinoceros family
I am liberated.
Feminist.
Activist.
Womban.
Mama.
Jenny asks him daily if he has a dick 
and if he does is it BIG.
“I heard my mother telling her girlfriend 
that black men have big ones…
big you know…and you are a black boy 
so u must have a big..u know? 
Like don’t u get it?”
And I
Want to maintain his innocence
But I’m in no sense
Ignorant to what’s to come
We laugh until our bellies hold up stop signs 
to yield in peaceful sighs
And he has
Those
Eyes
Big.
Brown.
Wide.
Mine.
He likes girls.
Not women.
Not hoochies.
Not hoes…”hoes are gardening tools, 
u know those things u use to make sunflowers grow”
And he wants to know the qualifications 
for how to be president
Not 
Resident
Pimp/player/shot caller/b-baler
He condones violence
Unless mama and daddy say protect yourself
He thinks you have to get into the Marines 
to be a Marine Biologist and that 
Periods are at the ends of sentences 
And 
I 
Can’t
Stop the fact that he is growing
Up
Out
He’s got legs as long as mine
And how do I tell him to run?
Run away from… 
Racism
Sexism
Drivin’ while blackism
Capitalism
Pediafileism
Niggerism
Saggypantsism
Drugism
I can’t help him escape
There is no island to send him too
And the reality of it all is that
He is innocent but in no sense safe…
From life.