TJ & TERRELL.
An "acceptance" narrative poem, written by The Kiah-Kay.
Terrell don’t know what it be like to live here in the scums,
Every week Mothers sangin’ at the corner ‘bout somebody closin’ the windows to the
Soul she grew from scratch
What a shame, Terrell don’t know nuffin’ ‘bout no survival,
He don’t even know what no good cookin’ taste like, and still wouldn’t if you hit ‘em in
The head with Big Mama favorite iron skillet.
He damn sho’ don’t know what it be like to use couch pillows fo’ a mattress.
His loud slang, saggin’ jeans and iron machines fooled us all
And sent shame upon me.
Hand shakin; talkin’ ‘bout closin’ the windows of another soul, refuted ‘em
Black suits filled Terrell’s closet,
Matching Black loafers covered the closet floor.
Ol’ boy must got ducks in rows that stretched as far as Timbuktu
Where TJ and me from, we never saw no Black boy suited ‘less he done foolishly
Looted his own existence six feet below earth
Or someplace prejudice fighting with God.
TJ asked Terrell ‘what area he was from,’ and Terrell couldn’t make no mo’ clever
Impressions. Cornered in his own reality, one word tripped over another
“Choke the truth and digest the lie,” TJ mumbled.
O’ Lawd! What he gon’ say now? That he pays Little Deon to keep his lawn Emerald?
That, a distasteful baked bird lies on the dinner table
Every Sunday’s in the worst condition?
Hell, he gon’ tell ‘bout the King size bed that swallows him whole in any condition?
He jus’ needa keep his lips shut for his tail get caught in a trap!
Waver was the rat.
TJ don’t like the scums nomo, nothin’ ‘ bout it
Not the mini mud ponds on the curb of the roads, not the reckless Mafia
With Black heavy irons burning their hip
And certainly not the Mafia in Blue
With sirens that scream through the neighborhood hunting for ‘em.
TJ say he wanna read books and do something honest for himself; he even talkin’
‘Bout wearing suits now, too.
He just has to be intoxicated in some way to be around Terrell.
Insecurities always had ‘em in his best shape.
TJ had the finest wrist watch and heaviest brick of money; never had first class
Experience and never ever made it to first period. Ain’t nobody too fond’a him.
Not that I went searchin’ for any skeletons, I don’t see’a single bone in Terrell’s closet
Fo’ that, everybody love ‘em… even ol’ non-chalant TJ
But Terrell was just a Salesman with loose rubber bands on wrist
You ought’a see his gesticulations when TJ’s around, it’s like a shy elephant hidin’
Behind a Palm tree “ME! ME! MEEE!”
Terrell would check and see if TJ looked, each time. And every time, Terrell looked
And he saw that TJ Checked! Except… each and every time, TJ was only checking for
His counterpart.
Terrell was never applauded for his futile conversion and TJ stood lost at a standstill
Waitin’ for his counterparts return. I must’a had a million showers since, I still can’t
Scrub the odor of disappointment away.