all y’all come quick! i’m sorry to use whole damn continents

& shit to sum up the diasporas within our diasporas

i’m just trying to get the word out! we got a jam going!

bring ya folks! bring whatever your mama considers gospel.

not the text, but the feeling. tell me what song is likely on

when our mother finds herself on the floor, weeping

beckoning whoever lurks behind the sky.

we’ll play that loud. look! our fathers have found each other

in each other, they’re over yonder teaching each other

what they know to do with dominos, trading curse words

like fourth graders with too much language & no supervision.

we got time! this could go for a moon or two! they said the fish

is gonna take until tomorrow. the lamb longer. the rice is ready tho.

we got some more chairs in the basement. upstairs a room

for crying. a room for prayer. somebody girlfriend

doing tarot over there. look at our nieces jumping into stars!

come on niggas! is there a nigga in Antarctica? her too!

any place where they came & handed out new names

come. come on, niggas! i know the word is complicated

but it’s my favorite word! we’ll talk about it later.

& yes. yes, it’s intentional.

they were never invited.

white niggas

your narrative & my narrative go behind the house

& just have it out for once. one lunges with a shiv

the lunged-at pulls it into place. they know the choreo

of this marriage, their good-time war. i understand

the shape of it: we don’t read the same articles, don’t

consider the same things knowledge, don’t believe in

the same god in the same way. i get it. we know little

similar, sure, the joy of a good piss, the smell

of fresh-cut lemon, the feeling of making it home

alive. now, if i am trying to avoid you to stay alive

& you are trying to avoid me to stay alive, what is that

the definition of? all this blood & still no truce.

my adopted twin, we’ve been at it for years

you run around scared of the idea of me, i run away

from your actual you with your actual instruments

of my end: badge, bullet, post, gas, rope, opinion.

you have murdered me for centuries & still i fix

my mouth to say love is possible. it is. it is? if you

come to my door thirsty, i’ll turn the faucet & fill

the glass. if i come to your stoop, don’t shoot.

what was said at the bus stop

lately has been a long time

says the girl from Pakistan, Lahore to be specific

at the bus stop when the white man

ask her where she’s from & then

says oh, you from Lahore?

it’s pretty bad over there lately.

lately has been a long time

she says & we look at each other & the look says