A poem a day for 2013 - day 177 - poem 2 - For Rachel Jeantel

I know what it's like
To have a white man turn his back on you like you are nothing
In the middle of your speak
Your talk
Your say
As if your words are garble and tissue and smoke

Baby, I understand you
Baby, ask Don West how many languages he speaks
Baby, ask him how many times he heard his friend killed
Baby, ask him how bold you have to be to be
Ridiculed by your friend's killer's defense

They will talk
That's what they do
You are brave
Brave like sun got nerve enough to show up after Katrina
And look all that death in the bones

They will talk
That's what they do
Tell them what it take to comb hair
Make face
Tell them about putting on shoes
To face your friend's killer
Tell them about keeping your voice as syrup as you could

Baby, roll your eyes
Baby, count to ten
Baby, breathe, Baby, breathe

I know what it is like
To be black girl nobody wants to hear
I know what it is like to be feared
Don't get it twisted, Baby
They are afraid
They are afraid of you
They are afraid of your pointed finger across that table
Hold it together
Hold his life in your hands
You think they don't know?
You will throw away the key
Why else is it so important to shame your black girl
Your arm fold
Are you listening?
You better ask him again
You better let him know
He better axe somebody

Baby, you betta know your power
You think they don't understand
A black woman like you
Like me
Attitude
Sassy
Eye roll
Skin like ocean
Like sky
Like Africa

Let them laugh, Baby
With his life all in your sass