Sometimes It’s Just A Pointy Hat by Richaundra Thursday

Sometimes I just wanna Be,
Not have your layers under my
Skin like rune tattoos,
Nor wear your agenda like woad.
I should not always need to
Fight the Patriarchy for you,
Your shining beacon
(Rising martyrs bright as pyres),
I do not need your
Repressive progressivism
To applaud a sexual freedom
I may or may not choose to advertise.
Your words in my mouth,
White liberal possession:
I exorcise you, my very existence
Should make you step up,
But still put it all on me.
You stole me
Like a condiment,
Like a country,
From folx browner than you.
All that sage
Smudging your eyes:
Free range black and brownface
Applied by dry stick brushes,
Repackaged, relabeled,
Sold at markup;
Made reactive.
A balm, an avenger.
I hope the packaged incense
Lights up your suburban houses
And I know a thing or two about burning.
Don’t misunderstand,
I will lend you all my strength.
The world will need all our strength.
But you don’t decide what
Collects in my pot nor
What tongues speak my spells.
I can be more or less than a symbol,
Than a storm, than a prayer.
Sometimes it is just a pointy hat.


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