imprisoned, age seven
it is frozen
inside a sepia photograph. & i
am forever
its imprisoned child.
the dark brown child
grimacing inside, when the white
photographer demanded
"smile..." this is what
"happy" looked like
at seven. after
my father
brushed & greased my
defiant, black hair
into some semblance of
a part. tied a noose around my neck... &
fashioned from my squirming,
crying, wildness this
upright afro-
american child.
& so...
half-heartedly
slyly, then rebelliously, i
became "him"... this
little brown clown of
robotic assimilation.
posed, frozed in his
best sunday clothes, until
he did not look, or feel
or even smell like me.
"smile..." you little fool
this one's for
prosperity.
One.
© 2006 by L.M.Ross moaningmanblues
