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                    • from Who Look at Me
                      • If You Saw a Negro Lady
                        • What Would I Do White
                          • These Poems
                            • One Minus One Minus One
                              • I Must Become a Menace to My Enemies
                                • Poem for South African Women
                                  • Alla Tha's All Right, but
                                    • Poem about My Rights
                                      • Poem for Nana
                                        • First Poem After Serious Surgery
                                          • The Bombing of Baghdad
                                            • Poem to Take Back the Night
                                              • It's Hard to Keep a Clean Shirt Clean
                                              I Must Become a Menace to My Enemies

                                              Dedicated to the Poet Agostinho Neto,
                                              President of The People’s Republic of Angola: 1976

                                              1
                                              I will no longer lightly walk behind
                                              a one of you who fear me:
                                                                                   Be afraid.
                                              I plan to give you reasons for your jumpy fits
                                              and facial tics
                                              I will not walk politely on the pavements anymore
                                              and this is dedicated in particular
                                              to those who hear my footsteps
                                              or the insubstantial rattling of my grocery
                                              cart
                                              then turn around
                                              see me
                                              and hurry on
                                              away from this impressive terror I must be:
                                              I plan to blossom bloody on an afternoon
                                              surrounded by my comrades singing
                                              terrible revenge in merciless
                                              accelerating
                                              rhythms
                                              But
                                              I have watched a blind man studying his face.
                                              I have set the table in the evening and sat down
                                              to eat the news.
                                              Regularly
                                              I have gone to sleep.
                                              There is no one to forgive me.
                                              The dead do not give a damn.
                                              I live like a lover
                                              who drops her dime into the phone
                                              just as the subway shakes into the station
                                              wasting her message
                                              canceling the question of her call:

                                              fulminating or forgetful but late
                                              and always after the fact that could save or 
                                              condemn me

                                              I must become the action of my fate.

                                              2
                                              How many of my brothers and my sisters
                                              will they kill
                                              before I teach myself
                                              retaliation?
                                              Shall we pick a number? 
                                              South Africa for instance:
                                              do we agree that more than ten thousand
                                              in less than a year but that less than
                                              five thousand slaughtered in more than six
                                              months will
                                              WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH ME?

                                              I must become a menace to my enemies.

                                              3
                                              And if I 
                                              if I ever let you slide
                                              who should be extirpated from my universe
                                              who should be cauterized from earth
                                              completely
                                              (lawandorder jerkoffs of the first the
                                              terrorist degree)
                                              then let my body fail my soul
                                              in its bedeviled lecheries

                                              And if I 
                                              if I ever let love go
                                              because the hatred and the whisperings
                                              become a phantom dictate I o-
                                              bey in lieu of impulse and realities
                                              (the blossoming flamingos of my
                                              wild mimosa trees)
                                              then let love freeze me
                                              out.

                                              I must become
                                              I must become a menace to my enemies.

                                              from Things That I Do in the Dark (1977)
                                              and from Directed by Desire. The Collected Poems of June Jordan.
                                              Copyright 2005 by the June M. Jordan Literary Estate Trust
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