I’m from colored fountain pens
from stationary and backlit keyboards
I am from the cactus-lined walkway
I am from Gardenia-scented candles
I am from praying around the table and the thick hair
from Geraldine and James Jerome
I am from the 3 a.m. wake-up to fussing the messy kitchen
and the belly-hurting laughter
From “Gimme some shugga,” to “‘Lias! ‘Lias! Bless de Lawd!…”
I am from Jesus on the mainline
I am from Baltimore on Bethel Street that is no more
from steamed crabs in newspaper
From Andrew flying out the door on North Ave.
and the way Aunt Katty rolled her eyes, laughing at him
from the way Eric rolled rather than walking as if in protest of his feet
I am from freedom despite…
and fists up
and afros
And the shamelessness of the royalty of my skin
I am From (a framed poem)
