Incense burned, hair curled, wind and clothes dancing aeronautics,
I am flying with pride, my feet barely touching the earth.
In my own little world, humming and singing and breathing and so very super in my being
My world of incense filled cape dancing halted, interrupted:
''errmmm soo yea what race is somalians anyways?''
Bitch you festering open wound on the most brain dead vermin/
you should never have been permitted to breathe in my presence let alone to speak
Can you not see the Land of Punt etched so deeply on my face?
Do you not notice African royalty in every line and every curve?
Are you so blind you cannot comprehend that your limited understanding of yourself is not my problem?
I am beyond you.
Keep 'black' if it makes you feel worthy you sit-com of the devils humour/
pirate jokes do not faze me/
unlike you I existed before/
There was something before you saw swollen bellies and thought it a joke that millions may starve/
You said they cannot afford to vomit and that to you was funny
but you wouldn't even be fit to drink the bile from any of my warriors in refugee camps starving/
so keep 'Black' if it means that hunger is amusing/
I am too superior in my being/
Keep 'black' if there is a box you need everyone to fit neatly into for your unicellular brain to organise and understand/ You lack nuclei or substance/
Your unworthyness is astounding/
You gut full of wasted semen I wish we could start again with you/
Some poor woman had to lend her body to bring passage to you/
This society so broken can never be mended with mind-boggling ignorance still festive and thriving/
Like air-born-word-evolved herpes, your stupidity we are infected with/
You are a walking apology/
Why is your world not sorry?
If I cared enough to clean out some of your bacteria, I would sit you down and teach you/
Force you to confront the sum of my nose, cheek bones, forehead all angles, all belonging to the same corner before
So very long before/
But I fear it is fruitless to ply you with the gift of knowledge when it's 'likes' on facebook your life goals are centred on/
I am even sorry I have spent so long on you/
My cape dance you will no longer interrupt with your poor excuse for jokes/
of famine and hunger and pirates and boats/
The same road I took to get here I can always take back/
But you're forever stuck in the maladorousness of your being/
Please, you festering open wound on the most brain dead vermin/
Keep 'Black' if it makes your world easier to live in.
Copyright © 2013
Post a Comment