Where are you from?
I’m from Los Angeles.
Naw man, tell him where you’re really from.
Oh yeah, I’m from Compton.
Shame. That’s what I feel as my mouth betrays my heart and the word “Compton” fall from my lips. Compton. The only place I know as maternal, as home. I watch the word as it hovers above my conversation with these two men, both close to my age, one black and one white. I watch it hover, just above my head, violently uncovered, Revealed, for excited, voyeuristic eyes to gawk at. Usually, I have no problem telling people my origins. But tonight, this revelation is not on my own terms. I know what they what from me: A ‘hood tale’, or two. Maybe, I can even spit a verse of their favorite N.W.A track. They want me to play out with my words what their mind tells them is true. They want me to make their nigga fantasy real—-I’m their minstrel tonight…
Click through for the whole piece, it’s beautiful.
homonoire is back!