Poem for Black Boys
Where are your heroes, my little Black ones/You are the Indian you so disdainfully shoot/Not the big bad sheriff on his faggoty white horse
You should play run-away-slave/or Mau Mau/These are more in line with your history
Ask your mothers for a Rap Brown gun/Santa just may comply if you wish hard enough/Ask for CULLURD instead of Monopoly/DO NOT SIT IN DO NOT FOLLOW KING/GO DIRECTLY TO STREETS/This is a game you can win
As you sit there with your all understanding eyes/You know the truth of what I'm saying/Play Back-to-Black/Grow a natural and practice vandalism
These are useful games (some say a skill is even learned)/There is a new game I must tell you of/It's called Catch The Leader Lying/(and knowing your sense of the absurd/you will enjoy this)
Also a company called Revolution has just issued/a special kit for little boys/called Burn Baby/I'm told it has full instructions on how to siphon gas/and fill a bottle
Then our old friend Hide and Seek becomes valid/Because we have much to seek and ourselves to hide/from a lecherous dog
And htis poem I give is worth much more/than any nickel bag/or ten cent toy/And you will understand all too soon/That you, my children of battle, are your heroes/You must invent your own games and teach us old ones/how to play
by Nikki Giovanni
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