I called this guy out, I completely lost it,
I tore into his gut, his eyes went wild he wrecked
my ear with his ringed fist I felt
I would cave in from the pain
and pissed on his mother with words—
he shifted me into a bear hug and I tried
to break his foot with my boot heel,
threw an elbow and heard something crack
in his eye socket—I didn't hate hatred I hated
sons'a' bitches like him spitting on my shirt,
then charging he tripped all the way down,
grabbing my leg and biting a spurt of blood and skin
out of my ankle, and I kicked him in the mouth
then I kicked him in the throat and he spat some
extra blood and came up on me insane with cuts on his nose
—I hugged his crotch with my knee, I had my justice
closing his tongue in blood with my forearm
when he lunged at me again drunk
with getting his ass kicked—I bent him easy
then dumped him over the rim of a lunch-court
garbage can and rolled him, when I was fifteen,
when I was with my first love from Peru,
when he said under his breath, 'nigger lover, '
when he winked at her, after he said it to me.
Doren Robbins
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/nigger-lover/
