Poor, Black, Math.
by Niveah Glover
When I see a Black Mama count out
Her last seven dollars to buy
A loaf of bread, I times that
By how many mouths she could
Be feeding, & divide it by how many hours
It took for her to make that seven
Dollars, or, the number of times
Her rent went up ‘cause of economic
Equations and variables
Like property taxes & inflation.
I think: How long will struggle take
To settle, rise & bake into the body
Of some snaggletooth black child?
If the lights have been off for three
Days, how long will it take before
Somebody offers a candle, a flashlight,
Assistance to a blue-collar worker who
Don’t ask for much but a roof,
Clothes, enough time to rise.
I count times tables, do long division
For all the Poor, Black, Kids who
Can’t focus in Algebra class
‘Cause this the third time in an
Eight-hour day they’ve been asked:
How many times will I have to let You borrow a pencil?