Subtle Surgeons

WHY WHY WHY can’t I change these insides?

sometimes stereotypes runs so rampant that they become your own
personal private facts
the fear gets inside your skin
Oh you can’t just relax

I saw them last night
or was it five years ago?
or was it
damn
it might’ve been the day I was born
shit I don’t know

even if I didn’t see ‘em
I mean they had to be there
it’s like this surgical dream team that can get
inside of your head
without touching your hair
then they split without stitches
taking nothing but leaving this semblance of
systematically inherent fear

come on, really?
you didn’t see ‘em?
your brain is so untouched you boast
well then why didn’t you vote for those gay rights?
oh I don’t know it’s gross

oh man but I have millions of gay friends
let ‘em homo up and down their houses
as long as they don’t hit on me

WELL SHIT, that sucks, and I want my brain back

but what’s one enlightened me
and maybe a couple million more gonna do
that simply won’t suffice and now I want
your brain back too

but I digress…

‘cause as I have my bony finger pointed
instructing you to pick up the slack
well, I just must not have noticed those other
three pointing right back
sayin’
you don’t admit it to yourself, but let’s be real man
you still see black

and there’s been battle inside my body and I will
FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT
but somewhere deep inside that battle camp
well those three fingers might be right

because I’ve witnessed this war waged
I’ve seen my heart throb
but there’s some secret subtle place in my cerebrum
those FUCKING surgeons did their job

Because WHY WHY WHY
when I’m walking down the street
I see my EYE
catch a man of different color who in thirty seconds
will walk BY
and I fight with my PRIDE
to not be an ignorant pussy and cross the street to
the other side

and I step out into my mind and see that
blinking red sign whispering
danger
somewhere on the inside

I see the perfect placement
so the surgeons must’ve got it right
because my inner arm’s about to break and
I still can’t turn out that light

so the battle blazes on
but I put my paper on peace and love
because fear’s the easy path
subtle individual acceptance
well that shit’s tough

but if you see them while you’re sleepin’
or you wake up and they’re still workin’
well you take that fuckin’ scalpel
and you kick out that subtle surgeon

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Jonathan Sands is a graduate from Ohio University in Athens, Ohio, where he started his career as a performance writer in the oral tradition of beat poetry with strong influences from the world of hip hop. The goal remains intact to continue producing thought provoking poetry while continuing to rock your freakin’ socks off.

The book from which this poem is taken, In It’s Own Imaginative Engine, can be purchased online at www.jkpublishing.org or at Follett’s Bookstore or from CJ of JK Publishing Tuesday nights during Designated Space at the Donkey cafe, 9 p.m.