Erasure poem: “If You Are Over Staying Woke” by Morgan Parker

Water

the plants. Drink

plenty of water.

Don’t hear

the news. Get

bored. Complain

about the weather.

Keep a corkscrew

in your purse.

Swipe right

sometimes.

Don’t smile

unless    want

to. Sleep in.

Don’t see the news.

Remember what

the world is like

for white people.

Listen to

cricket songs.

Floss. Take pills.

Keep an

empty mind.

When you are

hungover

do not say

’m never drinking

again. Be honest

when you’re up

to it. Otherwise

drink water

lie to yourself

turn off the news

burn the papers

skip the funerals

take pills

laugh at dumb shit

fuck people you

don’t care about

use the crockpot

use the juicer

the smoothie maker

drink water

from the sky

don’t think

too much about the sky

don’t think about water

skip the funerals

close your eyes

whenever possible

When you toast

look everyone in the eyes

Never punctuate

the President

Write the news

Turn

into water

Water

the fire escape

Burn the paper

Crumble the letters

nstead of

Wilt the news

White the hydrangeas

Drink the white

Waterfall the

cricket songs

Keep a song in mind

Don’t smile

Don’t wilt

Where I’m from

I am from the greca-where my family makes their coffee,

from cafe Bustelo and everyone’s very own specific coffee cups.

I am from a small, homey, Bronx apartment, from the green wall and black leather couches to the big brown table that would always smell like lemon.

I am from the agaves growing on the washer in the kitchen,

the plants my grandma loved more than anyone, that grew to the top of our ceiling and covered the kitchen window.

I am from opening Christmas presents at midnight on the 24th.

And a family that all had crooked fingers,

from Doña 

and Titi Ana and Mimi.

I am from a loud 

and loving, caring family.

From the saying “Sana, sana, colita de rana, si no se sanas hoy, se sanaras manana” every time my cousin and I got hurt, 

and from everyone telling us to enjoy our childhood years, how we will regret saying we wanted to be adults.

I am from the love of sneakers.

I am from The Bronx and the Dominican Republic, 

From Rice with chicken and beans and Mangu with salami.

From the commitment of a grandmother who stepped up to take care of her granddaughter,

the caring uncle who listened,

and the aunt who cared for me as one of her own.

I am from the frames held up in my grandmother’s hallway, the family photos in her album at the bottom of her closet, from my mom’s mac computer that held all of our favorite videos of one another, that cherished so many beautiful memories of ours.