Mama Said I Cain’t Have No Company.
We learned Ebonics early. It
came with milk and cookies,
came like a sweet roll melting
in the mouth lasting a lifetime
and never forgotten.
.
It was a part of the funeral,
like flowers. A part of eternity
in a wooden box. Learning to speak
was hard enough. Learning to
speak another way made the sense
of confinement touchable as a
crib’s ribs.
.
Speaking in tongues was the way
to speak without being overheard.
Thought was muted or spoken behind
closed doors. Reality seldom
passed the lips. Ruthless silence
devolved to self-demeaning where
saying a feeling was absolutely
forbidden. Unable to suppress the need
to say, cursing became the venue
for conversation.
.
Reinforced silence inevitably
damaged the will to say anything.
Scripted against the conditionings
of no, we mastered the art of saying
nothing.
.
allets
08-25-19
1143p