Grateful, granny called me black boy

GImbpf_ZKevin Browne ,‏
Submitted via Twitter: @drbrowne
#TheRaceCardProject

 “Black Boy” for Michele
by:  Kevin A. Browne

I was grateful; granny was prophetic,
almost making me out of clay,
caressing my tar with old love.
black before it was a color.

we come from an oily family,
our skins sticky to the touch.
we, who gushed from the oilfields:
she didn’t want me digging holes.

she didn’t want us digging holes.

she remains, now, a 45 minute recording—
my own ghost in the machine—that I listen to often,
but not often enough.

she named me.

I think it was so that every time I say my name,

I say it with her tongue:
black boy.


What is your 6-Word Story?
Related Posts
One man. Indivisible. Black. Gay. American.
One man. Indivisible. Black. Gay. American.
Race is imagined. We’re all sneetches
Race is imagined. We’re all sneetches
TIME TO RE-READ STAR BELLIED SNEETCHES
TIME TO RE-READ STAR BELLIED SNEETCHES

Comments are closed.