It's another poem I kind of like to read.
I like to think about why I have an odd mind sometime.
And one of the things I feel badly about
are the Black people who died 20 years ago, because they died
before the new consciousness.
Do you know what I mean?
And so people like my mother never
really knew that they were very beautiful.
And I feel badly about that.
So I wrote a poem about it.
It has no title.
So close.
They come so close to being beautiful.
If they had hung on maybe five more years,
we would have been together for these new things.
And for them old niggers to have come so close,
all seem like some Black people missed out even more than all
the time.