"Dear Mr. DJ," A Poetry Post

Dear Mr. DJ,

Ya'll gone have to
drag me out the back
of this club if you don't
stop
playing Reggaeton, Merengue and
Salsa.

I don't see why
any black body should
go home
anytime
when someone like you done
walked in and
started
selectin' music that
makes my lungs
jump.

I ain't even gone act like I'm inclined.

This is a good spot.

You keep your flow and
I'll keep showing my
Latino
brothers and sisters that
brown skin can sin,
just like the bodies of our
lighter melanined
cousins and
them.

I intend to
get my bachata
on, friend.

Don't nobody rush me.

Let me forget my long day
in your Merengue.

Thank you 'Bay.

Signed,

Pretty Brown Girl.