That black stuff (from journal entry 1994)

some girl came up to me
said she was from some sorority
alpha kappa something or another
and cant i write about how blacks and whites could live better together
bout how it would be better to unite and not fight
and date and mate and race relate
i jus told her that that wasnt my style
that was left to someone else

then she asked why i couldnt write about the flowers and how pretty they are
or the sky and its clouds or the moon or the stars
i told her that was cool
that i might do that someday
but today my brothers are dying in the streets
my sisters are being raped
my children are hanging from trees

today we are at war

(today, April 29, 2011, What's interesting about this is I remember that conversation with the young lady who saw so much anger in my writing. I remember dismissing her like she was lost. She just didn't understand. I was conscious not her. Today, what I write about mostly is nature, love, getting along, everything she said. I'm so glad I found this journal in my my mom's garage. I've come so far. I've let so much go.)