Kelsey L. Smoot
from ANC076: Muse
All About A Sundog
A Golden Shovel After James Baldwin's For Nothing Is Fixed
I let the bird tell me what it wants to be compared to because
it is still alive, still tending toward things. We
agree on a sundog, and suddenly there are
only two ways in which I can tell the
truth of this life. In the first, I can think only
of the future: its occupants and witnesses.
I am tempted to say a bird is not a sundog. Not even close, and they
should know it. In the second, I honor the bird—a sundog—and this brief, beautiful thing we have.
it is still alive, still tending toward things. We
agree on a sundog, and suddenly there are
only two ways in which I can tell the
truth of this life. In the first, I can think only
of the future: its occupants and witnesses.
I am tempted to say a bird is not a sundog. Not even close, and they
should know it. In the second, I honor the bird—a sundog—and this brief, beautiful thing we have.
Flavors
I give myself permission
to not feel fraudulent when I listen to hood-baby songs
I might have to search a little harder
to see myself in those
galvanic hymnals
But I know Black folks been cookin' up kinship
since a big ship
where the only language we had in common was bodies
chain linked and bracing
against the violent thrash of terror
and sea waves
I turn up the volume
Boomin down the block—but not on metro like MARTA
Embarrassed only when I think back to a tiny me
sitting in a backseat
all tattle and toddle
Asking my dad if Erykah Badu
had tall hair like Gerald from 'Hey Arnold'
under that head wrap
At the time, two tragically foreign frames of reference
for Blackness
I thought that growing up to be a rapper
would make me Blacker
But I couldn't keep the beat
so, I had to settle for acapella verses
that mostly rest in pages
And still, you can't convince me I'm not the truth
or a real nigga
or connected to you
One thing all of my suburban sabbaticals failed to do
was make me afraid of my own people
I never wanted to be part of the talented tenth
as much as I wanted to be ten-toes-down
I know white people think that I'm a unicorn
Something mythical, magical
otherworldly, a treasure chest filled with gold tokens
They don't know I got dark magic coursing through me
that Black-hot sizzling sea current
I search for mirrors in every room I walk into
and whenever I find one
I say "candy man" three times
and smile into another Black face
'Cause I know together,
not only will we survive the terror,
but we will perfect the recipe
for our own little slice of heaven here on earth,
we will mix sunrises, rainbows, and miracles,
sprinkle it with dew,
but then add a little something extra on the end
'cause that's just how we do
and I bet you it'll taste good too
to not feel fraudulent when I listen to hood-baby songs
I might have to search a little harder
to see myself in those
galvanic hymnals
But I know Black folks been cookin' up kinship
since a big ship
where the only language we had in common was bodies
chain linked and bracing
against the violent thrash of terror
and sea waves
I turn up the volume
Boomin down the block—but not on metro like MARTA
Embarrassed only when I think back to a tiny me
sitting in a backseat
all tattle and toddle
Asking my dad if Erykah Badu
had tall hair like Gerald from 'Hey Arnold'
under that head wrap
At the time, two tragically foreign frames of reference
for Blackness
I thought that growing up to be a rapper
would make me Blacker
But I couldn't keep the beat
so, I had to settle for acapella verses
that mostly rest in pages
And still, you can't convince me I'm not the truth
or a real nigga
or connected to you
One thing all of my suburban sabbaticals failed to do
was make me afraid of my own people
I never wanted to be part of the talented tenth
as much as I wanted to be ten-toes-down
I know white people think that I'm a unicorn
Something mythical, magical
otherworldly, a treasure chest filled with gold tokens
They don't know I got dark magic coursing through me
that Black-hot sizzling sea current
I search for mirrors in every room I walk into
and whenever I find one
I say "candy man" three times
and smile into another Black face
'Cause I know together,
not only will we survive the terror,
but we will perfect the recipe
for our own little slice of heaven here on earth,
we will mix sunrises, rainbows, and miracles,
sprinkle it with dew,
but then add a little something extra on the end
'cause that's just how we do
and I bet you it'll taste good too
