Ten Niggers Before Obama


my father

calls me into his bedroom before I leave for prom

tells me

“be careful

there’s a lot of crazy niggas out here”


i smile

tell him I know

don’t tell him

i’m afraid of my people


afraid of him


afraid of myself


my classroom is full of slave master spawns

but today

i call them group project team-members

“so much progress has been made since the 1960s”

she says in my face.

as i wipe off her


i mutter

under my tongue

“these niggas have no idea”


when my Mexican friend calls me nigga

he is forgetful and too


i wonder

if he is as afraid of himself

as i am.


if nigga was a car it would be a Rolls Royce with no wheels or

the most beautiful, broken vehicle to the stars you have ever seen.

it would have wing doors that never open all the way.

the horn would be the first drop beat

from marvin gaye’s sexual healing

on repeat.


obama was a nigger before he was my nigga

he was my nigga before i knew that niggers

don’t need to know their place

to be put in it.


my mom has never said nigga

but she has said nigger many times

in anger.

my mom is Mexican.

i don’t know what this means


i do.


when i let the hallmark-industrial complex get the best of me

i think about getting married and

at the altar, the atheist priest says loudly,

“you may now kiss your nigga”

and i smirk

and lose myself in the lips of my


or nigga

or safe place

of my dreams.


you’ve killed too many niggas to say nigga, nigga.


but you still will and it will still hurt and still feel like

someone you never knew is holding you



say nigger in public

say nigger in private

free niggers in public

enslave niggas in


kill niggers in


fuck niggers in public

steal niggers in public

love niggas in private.

real niggas be wildin’

tom niggas in hiding.

and the lost niggas stay quiet.

and the lost niggas stay quiet.

3 Comments Add yours

  1. jisalive says:

    Reblogged this on jisalive.


  2. fantastic !!!!!!!!!!!


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