one day
you gonna walk in this house
and i’m gonna have on a long African
gown
you’ll sit down and say “The Black…”
and i’m gonna take one arm out
then you—not noticing me at all—will say “What about
this brother…”
and i’m going to be slipping it over my head
and you’ll rap on about “The revolution…”
while i rest your hand against my stomach
you’ll go on—as you always do—saying
“I just can’t dig…”
while i’m moving your hand up and down
and i’ll be taking your dashiki off
then you’ll say “What we really need…”
and i’ll be licking your arm
and “The way I see it we ought to…”
and unbuckling your pants
“And what about the situation…”
and taking your shorts off
then you’ll notice
your state of undress
and knowing you you’ll just say
“Nikki,
isn’t this counterrevolutionary…?”