ISSUE TEN | SPRING 2018
at my annual appointment
when i’m asked to disrobe
and talk about what’s happened
with my body. you see
everyone travels through
some sort of prison atsomepoint
∆
in the shower, I travel to the far regions
to forget
her predilections
for internet gore, theway
she’d question me
about the rape. thesteam
choking my throat, never mind
its effect on the skin. anyway
what is fire until it burns you,
but comfort
∆
at the theatre
i don’t watch Tyler Perry movies
bc i was the only girl in middle school
with the-color-brown skin
bc students & teachers assumed
so where in Brooklyn
when Brooklyn meant brownskin
bc my parents paid full tuition
bc the adults insisted
bc the well-intentioned white people suggested
bc the cool girls said I
bc all the boys, yes all the boys knew
I should be grateful
∆
maybe, when a fat black dyke is president
∆
Optimus Prime, the Tooth Fairy and White Jesus
walk into a bar…
Omotara James writes and lives in New York City. Her poetry chapbook, Daughter Tongue, was selected by African Poetry Book Fund, in collaboration with Akashic Books, for the 2018 New Generation African Poets Box Set. Her debut, full-length collection, Mama Wata, is forthcoming in 2018 from CCM Siren Songs. For inquiries, visit www.omotarajames.com.