Tuesday, November 9, 2010

My man Obatala just slam this online The Blacktop a poem

The acute insight of a boy at puberty ... yo I LOVE THIS piece so much man. Tapd damn.
Two thumbs up

One Love Lepadah

The Blacktop (oba)

From: trkyounger (trkyounger)

There was a parking lot that led to another lot
which in turn led to Ms. Shimshacks candy store.
And there they stood. For the first time I was no
longer afraid of myself that spring. I was a boy
of thirteen and the city was no longer huge anymore.
Still I knew enough to stay in my part of town. But 'they'
were here. Hanging around the grocery shops, our candy
stores, in the heavy light of good, good noon. They were
our reversed 'po white trash' and they smelled of pig fat,
ashy elbows, and nappy, kinky, hair with a rank that tore
through town. Our gyms, our P.S. # 14 schoolyard, our
backyards, our cleaners. I wanted to go to sleep right
there on the blacktop and think of another city. I was
ashamed of them, of myself for looking so much like them.
'Dreams don't work this way',I kept saying to myself. But
they were finally here. Not Black people but these, these

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