#BlaPoWriMo: Boycott the Dark Girl (poem)

Boycott the dark girl!

Don’t tell them about race; Middle America
doesn’t want to face your afros and wide nose,
your full lips and round hips.

Boycott the dark girl!

Rip open your blouse, measure the humpback
on which a nation’s edifices are housed,
count the scars from raw cowhide
whipped in formation of a chokecherry plantation.

Boycott the dark girl!

Mend your heartstrings across the violin bridge,
play an empowering song with the bow of your fist.
Splash shades of brown through the stadium field—
a prism of acceptance, their politics must yield.

Boycott the dark girl!

A call for peace, an end to violence
is an attack, they say.
You were beaten, raped,
your genitals dissected and put on display.

Dance on the boycott, dark girl;

Hatred can’t make them turn you away.
Your purple skin is imperial; reclaim your domain
as you slay on the stage in Black Panther berets.

—Nortina

And This Is Why I Do Not Go To Clubs

Because twerking is not dancing
and please hold your applause
until the final curtain call,
not when she bends over, and
no, I am not aroused by that
stick in your pants, in fact
I can’t even feel it. You’ve
sold yourself short, buddy.
We’ve returned to middle school
dances where we stand at arm’s
length. Encroaching fingers are
not welcome inside my pussy. Pour
your liquor down your own throat.
Keep your spotted tongue in your
mouth. Refrain from calling me
baby, sexy, hoe, trick, bitch.
This is not a rap video. Auto-tune
and weed do not make you an artist.

—Nortina

Written for this week’s “dance” theme over at Literary Lion. Head on over to check it out.