"It reflects the world, what is so remarkable that?"
My mother said that when they see in their eyes saw.
They protect themselves to defend, while myself.
In the sixties, we went to the movies on the side entrance
If you pass the old black man at the door, then on the balcony
My mother knew I would be safe up there
far from the staring eyes of the other in the lobby of the theater.
And they left me there.
Through my tears I could smellthey
Smell me that primal scent of rich, moist dirt.
It felt like the source of all pigmentation. Feeling her warmth
through my clothes, as heat made me
wants to belong somewhere, anywhere!
I sat crying about us
Rail for the mother.
I never knew the world, small world, she said.
I tiny world of the skin such as bleached wood, where each
wincing as her eyes went to my pale, soft meat,
then look away.
I am thewhite tiger, white elephant,
and the white alligator in the zoo that
Nobody pays to see.
In the city in the summer swimming pool, children's black as one trillion
moonless nights in the fierce power of her skin held
Sun, that the belief that aliens built the pyramids a lie.
Then and now, I hate the sun.
He blessed me with the life of abuse by mutation.
Unlike Frankenstein's creation, who thanked
the good doctor for his existence by killingthe
"Real Monsters", which made him a freak,
My relatives and I can only drink the water
the dinosaurs
to wait.
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