“Black Music,” by Baletica Genous

By Baletica Genous • 

The nerve of white men

To read my email

To read my email

To read my email

And still misspell my name

He giggles and shrugs and says “its just so different”

He’s never heard it before

“Just where does that name come from?”

“How does one get it out?”

It is one name that starts in the back and rolls to the front of your mouth like marbles

It rolls back

Keep it stored to suck on

Speak it with the existence of angels and honeydew


Meditate on it

Use it only with complete syllables


Clap your hands to it


Like you would jazz


You could love


Exhale into trombones

Let it rumble

Choke on it

Til it swells and implants in your throat

So that

For the next 360 breaths you remember.

Baletica Genous is a writer and book lover that lives in Chicago with her wife and two joys.

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