I Wear My Fro to Work (Poem)

Every day, at work, I wear a full head of luscious black.
It’s the kind that sparks many judgments, I can clearly see in many eyes
‘Cause of the Euro-type of beauty it lacks.
Some treat it as a pet, and some despise.

Some stroke with no consent or care
as if my name were Fido.
If I’d done the same to any other ethnicity’s hair,
I’d certainly be pronounced “pervert” or “psycho.”

It gets the evil stare in meetings
from the boss and all above her.
It makes people stutter in their greetings,
and, because of it, many potentially useful conversations never occurred.

They’d prefer it shaved down, but that’s just too bad.
Such isn’t expected for any other ethnic group.
I love that something so small makes some so mad.
I love making admins' faces droop.

‘Cause, I know of the “blackness” fros amplify —
something not welcome in their workplace.
And, though, their sincere pledge is “diversify,”
that’s mainly to pacify those who always bring up race.

And, that’s why still gloss it with coconut oil
cleanse it with cannabis seed, and pick that bad boy out.
I love causing emotional turmoil
so that critical thinking with come about.

When some try to pet it,
it’ll, now, be a chance to teach.
I’m sure they don’t forget it,
when I reach back for the heads of the brunette, gingers, blondes, and of hairs bleached.

And, I care not if my hair is adored
by those at my job.
I’m there to work, not to make sure I’m not a boor,
to mental midgets and prejudice snobs.

And, if those are the type that won’t promote
or invite me to their fancy functions,
over my un-groomed “do,” then, they’re nothing but a slave to the rote.
I need you NOT. For, my blackness, professionalism, and morality do ensure my success, when working in conjunction.

From the Soul,

Published Works: https://amzn.to/2IZpspw