Guise
Look at this
whiteness/white-mess
You got yrsel into
Look at this
Spectre of brown skin
& white masks
You ghoul
yrsel a haunting
yrsel a boohoohoo
yrsel with a thin
voice with intonation
an insubstantial clipped voice
manicured to fit
Curry accent toned
Flat and tasteless
cos the past
Is another country
where yr blood
was of the land
where you walked
barefoot and yr
tongue ran free
in multiple dialects
& you were
the salt
of
the earth
until you weren’t
until the birds inside your body
lost flight, lost song
until you were caged
Ah, eee, om!
where you were
a ticking bomb,
a girlchild
who would only grow
to become
a liability
with a bomb
pussy, where you were
likely to have been
aborted if they had had
the money for the scan
Mind they told you that,
Mind they told you to
put that book down
cos you were only
good for marriage
only good to cook
only good to clean
only good to be on your knees
Mind they told you
at home
that you were wrong
Mind they told you
at school
that you were wrong
Mind they told you
at work
that you were wrong
Mind they told you
on the train
that you were wrong
Mind they told you
on the bus
that you were wrong
Mind they told you
at the dr’s surgery
that you were wrong
Mind they told you
at the dwp
that you were wrong
Mind they told you
on the tv and in the papers
that you were wrong
the wrong child
the wrong girl
the wrong woman
& that you could never be right
that you were wrong
the wrong caste
the wrong skin
the wrong body
the wrong voice
& that yr Queerness
could not exist
Mind how you told yesel
that you jad to be better than
that you had to try harder than
that to escape the mirrored hate
a coating of whiteness
a dip into the white/mess
might serve you better
that maybe you could be arundhati
or maybe you could be a preeti
or maybe you could be a suella
or maybe you could be a yasmine
or maybe you could be a tishani
anything, anything, anything but
the shame
and wrongness
of you.
by Deviji Jaan