to the white men on the train

do your ancestors visit you?

do they tuck you in at night?
do they lullaby cradle you into sound sleep
with European dreams of the country they stole for you?

do you search for them?

do you branch by branch back in time to see how strong your nose is?
if your chin arches true?
do you wonder how pure your bloodline is?
are you as scared as me?
I know we fear different things
you, finding the man with a whip that’s been whispering from under your pillow
me, finding the brick
the mortar
the dirt road 100 times over with no tracks or trace of where I really come from
I know
there is technology to find a cousin in Cameroon
but who has money to spend crossing an ocean where they may not welcome you back home?

did they tell you you got the wrong last name?

no, you’re not jewish
no, you’re not irish
no, there ain’t a drop of oppressed in you
you are the fruit of puritan ancestry
you son of a misguided outlaw
you daughter of a scorned wife
great great grandson of a businessman
dealing in flesh
trading melanin for green

how easy is it?

to walk around and feel that false power
to feel nothing
leaning against rhetoric like my great great grandmother didn’t raise you right
even without bedsheets
we still lying on the same straw bed hoping the moon stay a little bit longer

do your ancestors visit you?

do they remind you of why you’re here?
do they tell you of the way it’s supposed to be?
do they show you pictures of the black animals you’re supposed to fear
even though you’ve only seen black men cower to you and fight themselves?

do you search for them?

do you google scrapbook open records request diagram genealogy?
do you hope your family tree turns crest before the papers have yellowed beyond recognition?
are you as scared me?
I know we fear different things
you, finding a relative who renamed all his property
me, finding truth in the words “I don’t know who I am anymore”
I know
there is power in defining yourself
but everyone likes to have a place to start

did they tell you you got a famous last name?

that there’s a town
a marker
a winning lottery ticket under your tongue every time folk call you sir
that you could never be royal
cause America ain’t for kings and queens
they made sure of that
you come from a line of businessmen
of fast guns and faster deals
of life as usual
of don’t rock a boat you’ve never been on

how easy is it?

to see with eyes and not with heart
to see us as so different even when the harvest takes both our crops
knowing either way the odds are still stacked in your favor
that it was set up that way
it’s called the American dream

do you search for them?

do you stop before 1860?

or do you look?
do they tell you?
do you know?