If my life was genre’d fiction

Kenyatta David

it’d be afro-surrealistic 
with a hint of comedy.

Funny how I find
eyes funny when they
funnily glance to the back
corner of the class with that

I’m-From-Suburbia-I’ve-Never-Seen-A-Black-Person-before stare
or 
Wow!-You’re-So-Articulate head tilt.

The kind that gives me W.E.B.-DuBois-whiplash,
a double-conscious laugh,
generating theories of how I’m framed
in their soul-windows.

Rather if they see an 
ape in street-wear speaking truths
spearing suburban bubbles 
‘til ignorance bursts
or a negro spiritual 
that peeked into a thesaurus or two.

Between the white-guilt-furrowed brows lies that 
primal I’m-Not-Racist indignance 
they’ve internalized since their
mother-father’s words locked a bit over their eyes.

Paleness is palatable,
more so palatable paleness poisons,
pops, critical-thought-bubbles
they couldn’t see to see. 

Maybe 
in a couple generations
they’ll tell their sweater-vest-grandkids
about the black kid who spoke 
in the back of the class.


Kenyatta is a Creative Writing Major. He writes poetry, prose, and is getting his feet wet with screenwriting. Kenyatta enjoys making fun of himself in poems and writing. He loves lemonade and Uzo!