Happy Black History Month
My father is a tall black man, 6’2”, strong build
A white cop’s dream dinner
And my little brother is getting so tall
Almost six feet now and I’m afraid
That every time he leaves the weight room,
he’ll have gotten stronger.
And now, when that badge sees him, he’ll see the skin
And the strength and the curly hair
and his hand will reach towards his belt.
And he won’t see the big brown eyes or hear him laugh
Or know that he loves to draw or that he turns 16 this summer.
And I’m angry because it’s cool to wear “Kardashian braids”
And say “nigga” but
I promise it is not cool to feel this uncontrollable fear
This loss of power
That in the face of, he can only put his hands up
And “Yes sir” “No sir” until the hand is removed from the belt
Or until someone presses record and
my brother is another video saved on someone’s phone,
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