One, two. One, two. Can you
hear me? Mic check; one, two.

Mike checked
my bags at the airport
in a random,
routine check.

I understand, Mike.
I do.
You, too, were altered
that day and most days
most folks operate on
fear (often hate).
This is Mike check your job
And I am always random.

I understand.
It was folks who looked,
smelled, maybe prayed like me.

Can you hear me, Mike?
Red cheeked with
blonde buzz cut,
corn flower eyes
and a cross
round your neck.

Mike, check.
Folks who looked like you
stank so bad the
Indians smelled them
before they landed.

They murdered one, two
one, two as they prayed.
Spread small pox as alms.

Mike check.
Yes, I packed my own
bags. Can you hear
me? No they have not
been out of my possession.

Thanks, Mike.
You have a good day too.
One, two. Check Mike,
check Mike!

Hey yo, Mike!
Who’s gonna check you?

— Mike Check- Suheir Hammad (via claymore-chick)

(via wateringgoodseeds)