I wrote this poem after reading a diary here where the diarist tries to defend the New Yorker cartoon by saying it is satire. Let me be clear. I'm a black woman who wears an afro every single day. A HUGE afro. I wear my hair like that because it grows like that and I'm fond of it. I wrote this poem in response to that diary:
Insular living
It must be nice
Hanging out with the good and the white
All good Americans respect your vice
When you’re lucky enough to be male
And white
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Insular living
It must be nice
Hanging out with the good and the white
All good Americans respect your vice
When you’re lucky enough to be male
And white
No worries, no worries about your hair
If you’re a white woman nobody cares
If its long and its flowy nobody stares
If its big and its poofy you still don’t scare
Too bad if you’re black ‘cause you really don’t count
If you’re a black woman you’re three strikes out
You’re too black for TV, too outspoken for whites
You’re probably angry, and surely not nice
If you’re claiming its racist
It’s probably not
Get a sense of humor and thank God that you got
Snatched out Africa—just in time
And brought to the promised land
On the white man’s dime
Insular living
Must be so nice
When you’re just hanging out with the
Hard working whites