Poetic Shopping

This is how I feel sometimes when I go shopping. Except that I’m not black, of course. And I’m not in London. And there’s no winter in Malaysia. Oh, bloody hell, I’m shutting up and just letting you read in peace.

The Fat Black Woman Goes Shopping

Shopping in London winter
is a real drag for the fat black woman
going from store to store
in search of accommodating clothes
and de weather so cold

Look at the frozen thin mannequins
fixing her with grin
and de pretty salesgals
exchanging slimming glances
thinking she don’t notice

Lord is aggravating

Nothing soft and bright and billowing
to flow like breezy sunlight
when she walking

The fat black woman curses in Swahili/Yoruba
and nation language under he breathing
all this journeying and journeying

The fat black woman could only conclude
that when it come to fashion
the choice is lean

Nothing much beyond size 14

Grace Nichols

I just like poetry by black people. They have a stark, honest yet conversational style that appeals to every level of readers. If I were to write poetry, this would be the style I would most like to emulate.

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