RUPAUL DISCOVERS HIS BLACKNESS by Imani Davis

well, shit.

 

all those years i done

 

dedicated to seeing my skin

 

hexed up under this neon.

 

each glossy decade gone

 

to waste, pretty

 

wigs on a girl too stuck

 

on ugly

 

to ever pass.

 

as all good queens know,

 

deception is born

 

from a trick

 

of the light.

 

a blonde strand

 

coddled newborn-soft

 

on the crown of

 

my head.

 

it don’t come off, you know.

 

the shame beneath

 

the smoke

 

i conjure onto

 

my eyes each

 

morning. instead,

 

it stain rouge

 

on every memory

 

where my mama planted

 

her voice.

 

i slip into minstrel

 

smooth as the latest season

 

of Dior.

 

and don’t i look divine?

 

this slim & selfish walk

 

done sissied me

 

straight to a godless heaven.

 

my ancestors ain’t got

 

but one thing to say

 

to me these days:

 

“good luck // and don’t

 

fuck it up”

IMANI DAVIS is a queer Black writer from Brooklyn. Their poetry appears with PBS News Hour's Brief But Spectacular series, The Adroit Journal, Best of the Net, TEDx, and elsewhere. A recipient of fellowships from Mellon Mays and the Stadler Center for Literary Arts, they currently attend the University of Pennsylvania. You can find them at imani-davis.com and @imanixdavis.

 

 

 

<Prev                                                                                                                                       <Issue>                                                                                                                                   Next>

Please reload