Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Sasha fierce, Clark Kent, or other alter egos (2/30)

I work for a consultancy on Wall St
The next few lines are for context, not for boasting
I am not part of the 1% but I am not far away
I build Derivative trading platforms for people
who don’t give a fuck about you
I pay more in taxes a year, than most of my friends make
This is the truth, not conjecture,
not gratification for the hip-hop culture in me
I try not to be Righetous - of - self
Sometimes I fail in this...
I don’t go to clubs if I am not buying a table
I am running out of room for stamps in my passport
I understand the privilege in my problems
my 1st world-ness

I struggle constantly
about feeling proud of my accomplishments
or guilty
I am a black man, first generation college student
my mother is proud of me.
There are hollow voices that echoed in slave ships for me to be here
My great-grandfathers withered hands
My grandfather’s worn knees
My father’s wandering mind
All scream for me to be here
Don't they?
I have worked so hard, to be right where I am
for you to read my rights
and my wrongs
truth is...
I want to be rich
I want a big ass boat
A house with a gate, to keep you out
And a phantom in the driveway

I am a writer
I write poems and shit
One time, someone said
“after listening to you I don’t feel alone anymore”
I give of myself, I give back to the elements
that weathered me here
I wonder if I am balancing the scales
if my Clark Kent will be enough for heavens gates.
on judgment day
will my evens outweigh my odds
to put it in plain speak,
the reason I am conflicted is this

I know I could be doing so much more
but so much more...does not pay

-This is my reality, one that at times i am not so proud of-

This weekend I am going to Vegas
to blow some money
Just because


  1. Negro this was great but the ending was too abrupt. It didn't feel earned. You had all that meat and potatoes in there "my great grandfathers...don't they?" And "but so much more doesn't pay" what?! Nice. Also there needs to me some smooth literary transition before we get "I'm a writer..." that space before it feels like a big hole in the ground. There and the ending r the big fixes. Goood work :)

  2. I like the dichotomy in this piece. Shit play on playa hell, you aren't some silver spoon chap with slave owner paper homie