Diaspora

A plump black French girl!
French!
Not Jamaican, which is
the root of all blackness
these days,
Or some other Caribbean
island-nation—
alone, behind, primitive,
but rich in stereotype souvenirs
for tourists to haggle over on our
blind mental vacations—
but French!
French!
Not from that ambiguous desert of blackness
between Egypt and Madagascar
where I'm certain a bunch of little black
children with swollen bellies
are starving!
Not even from “the CPT”!
My particular brand of Americanism
didn’t include plump black French girls
recently arrived, now
selling books in a Minneapolis shop!