a poem by Shimah Easter

Real. and Black. A euphemism.

Don’t you see?

Like...’be twice as good’. But. Naturally.

(and baby, just this once...do it just for me!)

Yeah! Euphemistic!

Like Black. and Love.

Like cataclysmic and beyond beloved.

Like a living ocean – its shores made into a burial ground.

Like pyramids rising from the seafloor – once lost, now found.

The same damn thing. At the same damn time.

Like hip-hop and poetry...

and the rhymes (even between) the lines.

Knowing it ain’t a classic unless it’s on vinyl......

Knowing it ain’t over ‘til Big Mama sings it final.

Real. And Black. Euphemistic.

The... ‘nothin’ but Truth’.

Like lessons from the Motherland that seep on through.

Like just one drop!

Shit! Make it two!

‘Cause, they did it all for me. And for you.

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