ChickenBones: A Journal

for Literary & Artistic African-American Themes

   

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Obama’s the guest who’s coming to dinner. /All bookies pay off, for once smiling

as money leaves their pockets faster / than the winners can say Barack Hussein

Obama. There’s dancing in the streets . . .

 

 

Books by Mary E. Weems

Public Education and the Imagination-Intellect: I Speak from the Wound in My Mouth  / Tampon Class

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Nomination

             Tuesday, June 3, 2008

 

                            By Mary E. Weems

 

Looka here! Say it Loud, I’m Black

and I’m proud, no  matter hard you try

you can’t stop me now. James Brown

DJs in Heaven, his splits deeper, his

scream love talk, all around him the party’s

up there—Phyllis Wheatley Boogaloos

with DuBois, King prays for the brotha, Malcolm

smiles and writes, 3 of the Temps, Marvin, and Miles Davis

tune up for a midnight concert.

 

On earth America wakes up early. In one-hour Champagne

and Rose sell out in the hood, rural towns,

the burbs where signs on doors mark places

Obama’s the guest who’s coming to dinner.

All bookies pay off, for once smiling

as money leaves their pockets faster

than the winners can say Barack Hussein

Obama. There’s dancing in the streets,

loud laughing, children dream of being

old enough to vote.

 

Shouts hesitate for a moment in throats open

with pride. We who’ve lived long enough to lose

heroes, continue constant prayer. It’s not

hate we’re afraid of, it’s what hate can do

to a moment.

 

The world is in the world watching. Colors

create one outfit to wear in November.

In his speech, all of his words add up.

He speaks of energy, transformation, and

uplift as if all we have to do is wish and work

and the American Dream will finally come true.

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posted 13 June 2008

 

 

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