Things I Can't Tell My Daughter

When I was Black

I had a tear

That swept

Beneath the skirt

Of the ocean

It lays in rest

With the souls of Black folkx

Who knew

What survival might cost

When Breonna Taylor slept

In dreams of a family

In arms of a lover

In shelter

In alarm

Woke

To bullet pounding

Info terror propaganda

Whistle blower PD parties

Black woman lost to the whims

Of a thirsty media demon

Fed with likes and sad faces

And a people too tired and hungry to stand up

When Black men search for birds

Their phones should be fully charged and live camera capable

They should always beware of unknown white women

With god complexes

And should never attempt to correct them in any way

Lest they end up like Christian Cooper

Lest they want the noose

When we don’t mourn

A cop kneels firmly on our neck

And a no-knock

Carries us down the river

To ol’ massuh’s house

Where the sun don’t shine

And the bees don’t buzz

And ain’t no way to know

What it means to be Black