Poem: Ay Ay I

Ay, Ay, I am NOT of One

Ay, Ay, I that am thick thighed and wide hipped

White in my hair, Black in my lips

Both in my heritage as I am not of purely one,

Though I know not either what exactly I am

I know no one that is so wholly pure…

 

Ay, Ay, Ay don’t understand why

Mixed was once disgraced, blemished, wrong

Wanting to be equal to the Pure

And is now boasted, bragged, right, best

Pure wants what Mixed have

Mixed eyes, Mixes hair, Mixed skin

Apparently it’s all better

 

Ay, Ay, Ay know

No one is of Pure anything

You are as mixed as the person to your right and to your left

You are a chunk of DNA, in which combinations

are so various and similar at once

and to be these twisted vines which entwines

to create, not separate

to multiply, not divide

To reproduce the future with no singular reason to the immaculate confusion of the who, what, when, where, why and how they combine the way they do

Ay, Ay , I know only one reason for why-ever they combine isn’t to be discriminated,

We call EACHOTHER race, focusing on the win

But why don’t we just run together.

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