My First Conk Poem by Jeff Lee

On a hot summer's day in 1964
I found myself in the middle of the
drugstore, reaching for lye,
two raw eggs and potatoes. 'First conk,
son? ' the drugstore man smiled. I was proud.

Shining strands of limp hair,
hot, red, straight, clean
as it lay on white men; Shorty told me
in his shabby apartment 'Darn Right'
Then, he started combing. I was proud.

I could rise to the top, be accepted to
the world of freedom and join the 'Upper-Class'.
I dreamed of joining hands with white men,
all neatly conked, smiling. Feeling
the sweetness of liberty. I was proud.

The waves of pain and burning fire, I was
still on the wrong side. It made no difference,
I was walking the same never-ending road
toward white and clean, I wasn't myself.
No one told me to get rid of it,

But I did, I was proud.