By Karani Kelvin
Yesterday
Yesterday
Scrolling through updates on Facebook
(And never posting any myself)
I saw a picture of a man – an old,
life battered white man, diapers
hanging loosely in his greying boxers –
holding hands with a charming
ebony skinned twenty-something years
old supple young woman
And I thought of you.
The lovebirds – because that’s what
they think they are and wanted us to believe
were walking towards the ocean
The sun bounced off the ebony beauty
radiating a warm and shiny glow
And the old white man…
(Well, let’s not be malicious!)
I didn’t understand how and why
such a stunning pretty young thing
with firm pointed pawpaw breasts
thick thighs and a bottom like the cooking pot
A woman in her prime, full of life
would entangle herself with such an old man
(Whose diapers would you be soon changing,
the baby’s or the old man’s, someone wondered)
Do not get me wrong.
I revere age. I respect hustlers.
But when age fails to recognize its place
and the hustle degrades the man
Should I be forced to respect this?
Now, my sister,
The other day I wrote to my in-law
I did not mince my words.
I will not do that with you.
Whatever you do, whoever you chose
Let those relationships bring you respect
Bring honor to your family and Atapara.
If not, I will no longer be your brother.
