Baby Boy

Baby Boy is a veteran his bad leg, his paunch are scars. He remembered when South Baltimore was hell and risk for blacks at night; he has rolled the world to snake eyes on the black side of Pigtown bars. Sweat creeps now from fibers of gray hair. He curls his cigarettes from hidden smiles, now that the streets are safe to walk with small twenty-twos and straight razors, now that black folk are not playthings, now that curses come from under breath, as fire snorting from deep down like a snake. Baby Boy outstrips the youngsters, loading trucks, soaked in his own water, limping. Now that we don’t hold back. Baby Boy goes through Pigtown in a new car, his cap turned sideways and down, for business. Baby Boy is a warrior.

afaa-michael-weaver

Afaa M. Weaver


What’s up Family? Hope the weekend treated you kindly and you are prepared to go boldly into the new work week.  Remember today we honor the memory of a fallen warrior but in this day and in these times we all need to man up and  be warriors because we can no longer defer the dream simply because the dreamer has fallen.

Peace, Tenthltr2u

40 Years Later – Segregation: Then and Now

#AfaaWeaver #MLKDay #Poetry #urbanpoetry

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