On Black People

Dare I post this in the milieu I find myself in?, something within

me says fuck-it.

I do believe I know a wee bit about Black people due to observation

and experience on my part.

I love the word succinct and its meaning, therefore I shall strive to be just that,

and as to that I do believe I can distill my observations ,thoughts,

down to just a few words.

I’ve played whist with them behind bars, I’ve witnessed them working in

a dye factory in Bayonne, New Jersey, looking no longer black but purple,

I’ve accompanied them down into the no. 1 holds of United States Lines

freighters, we shared an excellent Port as I recall, I have read Cleaver.

I have tightened-up in the back of a pickup-truck at seven o’clock

in the morning and politely declined a swig of Muscatel, kindly offered,

on the way to eight hours on our knees weeding peppers.

You ask me what do I know?, I say what’s to know, they’re Americans.

Islander.