Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge!


From the day my daughter entered this world, you lucked out.

The first time she crawled and the times we played ball.

My brotha you lucked out.

You opened your mouth and actually said those horrible words.

That formed phrases repeatedly over and over in my mind of

"how absurd, how absurd."

For you to let the words roll off your tongue and say "I'm not sure."

You were casting asperations left and

right like callin me a whore.

You were my first, my only, my baby's father.

But let me just tell you this, there will be a cold day in hell

before your being I will bother.

You see you lucked out when she first called out your name.

And i cried out because I thought, "damn, am I to blame?"

I was the one who had to lie and tell my

child you were away at school.

Instead of tellin her the truth and saying you were a

poorly educated incarcerated fool.

But yeah, i'll admit it. I didn't think all of this at first.

But as the years went on, in you I saw nothing but the worst.

So, remember your child, your seed is well taken care of.

And think of her from time to time when your at the

club drinkin raspberry smirnoff.

And think of her daily while your doing

your thing and whoring about.

You left me with the greatest gift,

and thats where you lucked out.

Written by Antoinette Howard


Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge