Thursday, March 29, 2007

This Poem Would Make No Sense, Unless You Knew That I Was Nikki Giovanni

If you thought that I was an emaciated, syphalitic preteen Vietnamese prostitute
This poem would make no sense to you.

Or if you thought that I was a balding, polo-shirted white man
You wouldn't get it.

And if you thought I was an obese chain-smoking lesbian ex-nun
You would be closer, but it would pass you by.

But if you thought that I was a shrivelled old black woman with too much money and a pocket-full of hate

Then, honey, you'd be right on.

5 comments:

Miguel Cuthbert said...

Brilliant and biting. Stirring, insightful!

I am convinced it really is Nikki Giovanni - her style is so unique and impossible to emulate.

Standifer Evasto Visum said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Standifer Evasto Visum said...

Well, my last comment was most assuredly racist-leaning (and all-too telling).

Still, I'd much prefer a band by the name "White Snake" (lead singer named "Niki") to the poetry of this Giovani fellow.

Panda Rosa said...

I am not sure I get it, but it did make me smile. Anybody else you are not?

Xavier Martel said...

Panda,

I have to channel Nikki... hold on a second...

If you thought I was a toe-sucking political consultant with a penchant for bad haircuts...

If you thought I was a red-haired bodybuilder from Surinam...

If you thought I was a pale blonde tweed-wearing afficianado of 19th century detective stories with a cracked tortoiseshell monocle, a walrus moustache, and a mother-of-pearl walking stick...

If you thought I was a lanky and flaxen-headed penguin-tamer at the Oklahoma City Zoo...

Whew! I'm glad that's over. Channeling Nikki always leaves me nauseated and with a strange compulsion to purchase teal silk pajamas.