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American Sonnet for My Past and Future Assassin [Even the most kindhearted white woman]

Terrance Hayes

1971 –

Even the most kindhearted white woman,

Dragging herself through traffic with her nails

On the wheel & her head in a chamber of black

Modern American music may begin, almost

Carelessly, to breathe n-words. Yes, even the most

Bespectacled hallucination cruising the lanes

Of America may find her tongue curls inward,

Entangling her windpipe, her vents, toes & pedals

When she drives alone. Even the most made up

Layers of persona in a two- or four-door vehicle

Sealed in a fountain of bass & black boys

Chanting n-words may begin to chant inwardly

Softly before she can catch herself. Of course,

After that, what is inward, is absorbed.

The 2010 winner of the National Book Award in poetry, Terrance Hayes is the author of seven poetry collections. He currently serves on the Board of Chancellors of the Academy of American Poets.

Occasion

Themes

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More by this poet

We Should Make a Documentary About Spades

And here is all we’ll need: a card deck, quartets of sun people
Of the sort found in black college dormitories, some vintage
Music, indiscriminate spirits, fried chicken, some paper,

A writing utensil, and a bottomless Saturday. We should explore
The origins of a derogatory word like spade as well as the word
For feeling alone in polite company. And also the implications
Of calling someone who is not your brother or sister,

Brother or Sister. So little is known of our past, we can imagine

Terrance Hayes

2017

American Sonnet for My Past and Future Assassin [Any day now you will have the ability to feed the name]

Any day now you will have the ability to feed the name
Of anyone into an engine & your long lost half brother
As well as whoever else possesses a version of his name
Will appear before your face in bits of pixels & data
Displaying his monikers (like Gitmo for trapping, Bang
Bang for banging, Dopamine for dope or brains),
The country he would most like to visit (Heaven),
His nine & middle finger pointing towards the arms
Of the last trill trees of Bluff Estates & the arms

Terrance Hayes

2017

What I Am

Fred Sanford's on at 12
& I'm standing in the express lane (cash only)
about to buy Head & Shoulders
the white people shampoo, no one knows
what I am. My name could be Lamont.
George Clinton wears colors like Toucan Sam,
the Froot Loop pelican. Follow your nose,
he says. But I have no nose, no mouth,
so you tell me what's good, what's god,
what's funky. When I stop
by McDonalds for a cheeseburger, no one
suspects what I am. I smile at Ronald's poster,
perpetual grin behind the pissed-off, fly-girl
cashier I love.

Terrance Hayes

1999

Poems

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American Sonnet for My Past and Future Assassin [Even the most kindhearted white woman]

More by this poet

We Should Make a Documentary About Spades

American Sonnet for My Past and Future Assassin [Any day now you will have the ability to feed the name]

What I Am

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