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By Kristine Dade October 26, 2021

I Want My Baby to be Black

I want my baby to be Black.

As Black as the shadows in underground parking lots

So she will not be stolen,

So she will not be mistaken for belonging to a man

With a bat cape.

She will be as dark as nothingness.

Baby’s first word will be vroom,

On all 4s on the pavement,

Saying beep next.

 

Through my window, though, others move like rocks

Skipping over streaking red seas.

They won’t crash staying so still.

 

I’ll board baby when I’m bored,

And when she’s looking down.

We’ll have play dates until she puts the E down.

She’s funny with her board games.

We “get the rhythm” of her headlights to find a bite.

 

 

She’s chugging her fuel to the

“rhythm of the hotdog” being

Chewed by an open

Slobbery mouth.

Saying the cost when they have not yet swallowed,

Saying her name with food in their teeth.

 

Mercedes gets offended as I do, and

My baby shows it cause when we leave,

The ground is smoking,

And she,

Screeching.

 

The photograph by Clément Delacre is from upsplash.com.

About the author

Kristine Dade is a graduate of ALC: Cinema-Communication and a writer of poetry and short stories.

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