"That's not what your parole
officer said.
Did you register when you moved into
the neighborhood?”
I couldn’t decide if he was a cold
racist asking a racist question,
or a friendly racist telling a racist
joke.
Either way, I was not amused.
But I laughed.
As the awkward chuckle passed through
my lips,
it tasted like The Eucharist,
like blood in my mouth,
my stomach churned as I imagined it
would if I ate human flesh.
I felt like Judas and Christ,
betraying myself then hanging in
silence as I’m crucified.
I wanted to prove him wrong
I wanted to stand up and list off
my
credentials in words with more
syllables than his
simple mind could take.
I wanted to prove him right
I wanted to stand up and fire off
hyphenated profanities
inventing new conjugations
for four letter words like
the dumbest nigga he done eva heard.
I wanted to prove him wrong
I wanted to leave and come back with
the black elite. A fleet of the
sharpest
darkest intellectuals he's ever seen.
Leaving tips large enough to buy out
this
business twice over
I wanted to prove him right
I wanted to leave and come back
with thugs and hoodrats
with chains guns and bats
burn this place to ash
But what did I do?
I laughed.
Then sat there silently.
Then ran home and wrote poetry?
Then screamed it out like I’m not a
coward?
Like I didn’t cry in front of my
computer screen?
Like I wasn’t waiting for my two white
friends to speak up for me?
Like I stood up for myself?
Like I did something?
Like I fought a revolution?
Like it wasn’t funny?
Like I didn’t laugh?
But I did.
And it tasted like The Eucharist.
Like blood in my mouth,
and I swallowed it.
A live album capturing the synergy of Oddisee and his band; features highlights from the rapper’s extensive catalog. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 17, 2017