Portfolio

Black Magic

after Ariana Brown

by Elani Spencer

our ancestors

sprinkling a little bit of this a little bit of that

y’know we measure from the heart
you’ll know when it’s enough

squares of cornbread hot and ready
out the oven slathered in butter

sweet potato pie beaten until smooth
the kitchen sugary with cinnamon and nutmeg

the greens hardy with pork and garlic
warming you up all the way down

recipes unburied when there were only the white man’s scraps

and a vision

bloated, baby bellies and palates accustomed to flavor

nothing like the cuisine of the motherland
but enough to stay connected

Our ancestors

weaving escape routes into coiled hair

the tracks are just past the river

following the zig-zag patterns to freedom

Black women guiding those lost
our hair has never steered us wrong

Our ancestors

belting songs across cane and cotton fields with encoded messages

Rise now, and fight!
drums thundering in our feet

thread-bare clothes splattered with the colors of our flags

Our ancestors created
when all they had were their hands

even when they were shackled
even when they were calloused, bruised
even when blood pooled in their nail beds
they shaped, sculpted, painted, wrote

the perfect world,
a place of refuge
and with those same hands
they passed the torch