The American Cancer Society Or There Is More Than One Way to Skin a Coon
Poem By Audre Lorde
Of all the ways in which this country
Prints its death upon me
Selling me cigarettes is one of the most certain.
Yet every day I watch my son digging
ConEdison GeneralMotors GarbageDisposal
Out of his nose as he watches a 3 second spot
On How To Stop Smoking
And it makes me sick to my stomach.
For it is not by cigarettes
That you intend to destroy my children.
Not even by the cold white light of moon-walks
While half the boys I knew
Are doomed to quicker trips by a different capsule;
No, the american cancer destroys
By seductive and reluctant admission
Black women no longer give birth through their ears
And therefore must have A Monthly Need For Iron:
Our Pearly teeth are not racially insured
And therefore must be Gleemed For Fewer Cavities:
Even though all astronauts are white
Perhaps Black People can develop
Some of those human attributes
Dried dog food frozen coffee instant oatmeal
Depilatories deodorants detergents
And other assorted plastic.
And this is the surest sign I know
That the american cancer society is dying- -
It has started to dump its symbols onto Black People
Convincing proof that those symbols are now useless
And far more lethal than emphysema.