out
of
it
p a g e e i g h t
copyright1999-2001, Christine Hamm
EARLY CYNICISM
Soon after I got dumped, I met a very nice boy with long blond hair who gave me orgasms. This was a nice change. Too nice. After a month, I knew he started thinking of me as a slut. Ocassionaly he would make comments about how most girls didn't like sex, as in, most normal girls. We broke up after I cheated on him and he hit me in the face. Soon after that I went to college.
My black boyfriend
It's hard having a black boyfriend,
but not in the ways that I'd expect.
Nobody makes comments when I sit on his lap
in the subway, or when our faces struggle
with our lips and tongues in
stoop makeout sessions.
It's hard when the gypsy cab driver refuses
to let me
and my super pale skin, me and my blondeness,
out in my boyfriend's neighborhood.
He says the monkeys are dangerous.
It's hard when the man in the deli next door
talks about coons stealing all his candy.
I want to say,
but I'm black,
I mean, I'm dating a black man.
I get confused.
I should say, that's bullshit let me out right now.
But I get all jello-like,
and let it pass like I always have.
I used to justify it in my mind with,
he's just ignorant, or
he feels like an outsider himself
or some other psycho babble bullshit.
But now letting it pass confuses me
because, don't they see I'm black?
Don't they see that they're talking about me?
Or are they just talking about him.
My skin next to his looks so much alike.
I can't really tell the difference.
But I say nothing.
I always say nothing.