forgetfulness is the same as forgiveness is the only
thing i can say this morning which means someones
evil plan is working or perhaps not so evil like
j baldwin says "To be a Negro in this country
and to be relatively conscious is to be in a rage
almost all the time" and dude's got a point
i see two ways to deal: unnegro (v difficult) or unconscious
(not v difficult) theres always drugs or guns no really
cross my heart and hope to die after all being human
is being selfpreserved which is also being beige as possible
puttering down the world with a special quietness
i remember being 13 and indestructible wall breaking
with my fist then ma said THAT IS NIGGER SHIT I
DID NOT RAISE YOU THAT WAY which explains why
my home isnt an open sore an incubus of riot bubbling
across newspapers and shit i would never get shot
by a police officer if he could hear my telephone voice
or check my credit score (690, bitches) or show him my
holy pallored pale god but theres this awful and completely
true rumor going round that all police are hard of hearing
any pleas or logic my biggest fear is that once imma be like
HEY IM THE GOOD KIND OF BLACK and all they'll hear is AY
IM BLACK and all i'll hear is BANG BANG
i tried to unnegro but only ended up a vacuum of memory
but thankfully getting high is v chill but can be slightly
exhausting but then again everything is youtube and dummyhigh
till your backyard is Ferguson, MO shaped and dying
what would james say about all this shit? i dont know
by which i mean i dont wanna know which means damn
cant i just have some fucking cereal and not feel morally obligated about
some shit? my misshapen concern is tired these days all i want
is to maybe have some catfish without some whitedude chuckling
or shooting me that would be chill as fuck i guess
1.
2. then there's the whole black thing (being and all)
3. then the whole black and not dead thing
4. i'm not cut from marbles and lost
5. my body is a feudal kingdom a confused war
6. i am a preposition sentence cap
7. sometimes i say what i mean to
8. i'm not tryna be killed a stone on some whiteboy plotline mountain
9. this skin is too for MTV conflict that grass greener life swathed in light
10. tl;dr my problems are not rotted right there haven't been enough wavy white girls to scar me marketable
11. i don't live in California
Kamden Hilliard tries to study writing and psychology in New York. He succeeds. Sometimes. He is: a poor sleeper—recipient of fellowships from Callaloo, Lambda, and The Davidson Institute—contributor for Elite Daily and an avid hiker. He tries to keep busy. In the past he's been a poetry editor and editor-in-chief at The Adroit Journal, and other lovely places. His poems have appeared (or will appear) in *82 Review, Bodega, 2 Bridges Review, The Atlas Review, and other journals. If Kamden wasn't writing, he'd be very sad—or a scientist.