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my intent
for this to be squeaky clean
content acceptable for any poetry contest
or submission to any literary magazine
edible and palatable
safe to enjoy like cotton candy
make your foot tap to Miles Davis
snap your fingers to WC Handy
this was supposed to
make you nod your head and blankly agree
to any wrong doings in the world
your neighborhood and country
I tried to make this
politically correct and middle of the aisle
have the token in hand and ready to insert
as you glide through the subway turnstile
make the cashiers happy
as you get to checkout with correct change
observe insurrection and injustice
and never once think it strange
the intent of this thing
listenening to you talk and take it all in as fact
and I use great internal restraint
‘cause my parents taught me how to act
this poem is to
slow down at the corner and stop at the red light
to smile at every angry customer
because every customer is always right
but I gotta digress
my body sweats head to toe in hot flashes
still wincing and writhing from the pain
of the plantation slave master’s whip lashes
ancestorial poets reach
insisting my pen records all the ugliness I see
no half stepping in any word or line
there is no such thing as safe poetry
so
I digress...
