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12 March 2011

Somebody Almost Walked Off Wid Alla My Stuff

Somebody Almost Walked Off Wid Alla My Stuff
For coloured girls who have considered suicide when the rainbow is enuf
Ntozake Shange

[A favorite that I had the honor of performing in college.]
 
somebody almost walked off wid alla my stuff 
not my poems or a dance i gave up in the street
 but somebody almost walked off wid alla my stuff
like a kleptomaniac workin hard & forgettin while stealin
 this is mine
this aint your stuff
now why don’t you put me back & let me hang out in my own self
somebody almost walked off wit alla my stuff 
& didn’t care enuf to send a note home sayin 
i was late for my solo conversation
 or two sizes to small for my own tacky skirts
what can anybody do wit somethin of no value on
a open market
did you getta dime for my things
hey man 
where are you goin wid alla my stuff
to ohh & ahh aboutt
daddy
i gotta mainline number 
from my own shit
now wontcha put me back
& let
 me play this duet
wit silver ring in my nose
honest to god
somebody almost run off wit alla my stuff
& i didnt bring anythin but the kick & sway of it 
the perfect ass for my man & none of it is theirs 
this is mine 
ntozake ‘her own things’ 
that’s my name
 now give me my stuff
i see ya hidin my laugh
& how i
s it wif my legs open sometimes
to give me 
some sunlight
& there goes my love my toes my chewed 
up finger nails
niggah
wif the curls in yr hair
mr. louisiana hot link
i want my stuff back
my rhytums & my voice 
open my mouth 
& let me talk ya 
outta 
throwin my shit in the sewar 
this is some delicate 
leg & whimsical kiss 
i gotta have to give to my choice
without you runnin off wit alla my shit
now you cant have me less i give me away 
& i waz 
doin all that
til ya run off on a good thing
who is this you left me wit
some simple bitch 
widda bad attitude
i wants my things
i want my arm wit the hot iron scar 
& my leg wit the
 flea bite 
i want my calloused feet & quik language back
in my mouth
fried plantains 
pineapple pear juice 
sun-ra & joseph & jules 
i want my own things 
how i lived them

& give me my memories 
how i waz when i waz there
you cant have them or do nothin wit them
stealin my shit from me 
don’t make it yours 
makes it stolen
somebody almost run off wit alla my stuff 
& i waz standin
 there 
lookin at myself 
the whole time 
& it waznt a spirit took my stuff
waz a man whose 
ego walked round like Rodan’s shadow 
waz a man faster
n my innocence
waz a lover 
i made too much 
room for 
almost run off wit alla my stuff
& i didnt know i’d give it up so quick 
& the one runnin wit it
don’t know he got it 
& i’m shoutin this is mine 
& he dont 
know he got it 
my stuff is the anonymous ripped off treasure
 of the year
did you know somebody almost got away wit me
me in a plastic bag under their arm 
me 
danglin on a string of personal carelessness 
i’m spattered wit
 mud & city rain 
& no i didnt get a chance to take a douche
hey man 
this is not your perogative 
i gotta have me in my
 pocket 
to get round like a good woman should 
& make the poem
in the pot or the chicken in the dance
what i got to do
i gotta get my stuff to do it to
why dont ya find yr own things
& leave this package 
of me for my destiny
what ya got to get from me
i’ll give it to ya 
yeah 
i’ll give it to ya
round 5:00 in the winter 
when the sky is blue-red
& Dew City is gettin pressed 
if it’s really my stuff
ya gotta give it to me 
if ya really want it 
i’m 
the only one 
can handle it

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