Where I’m From

Kashmir Rivers

“WHERE U FROM”?

Where I’m from is the dingy small living boxes we call the projects.

To Watching cartoons on the couch, the sound of my friends knocking on my screen window. ‘’Kash come outside,’’ and the smell of my mama flat ironing her hair.

Kids-KASH come outside, it’s hot out and drea selln cool cups i gotchu one, hope you like purple cause that’s all she had left.

Me- dats coo let me go ask real quick

(I walk to the bathroom)

Me- mama can i go outside.

Mama- who all dat you goin wit.

Me- Mylia, Manman, Cece, Pugee, and Dink.

Mama- ight but you better come back in when dem street lights come on.

( i walk to the window stepping out)

Kids-what she say.

Me-she said yes.

To get ready to go outside and hang out with the neighborhood kids

I leave the smell of catfish being fried ,old men dealing cards, arguing, instigating, babies crying, and old lady singing and jamming too old 70’s R.&.B behind.

Where I’m from is the bollies, the hair clips ,the beads to the braids , the curls , nappy hair that was thought of as a lot. To big, To puff ,To ruff. Too much to handle “unmanageable” but we have turned out hair into something unimaginable To elegant, To pure that we can reassure you it is unique as it is beautiful as if u could not see that already. Sometimes nappy yes but who said beauty didnt come with pain.

The gold chains that are bound to their necks and wrist ,the nice cars but not so nice homes, the clothes, the english dat is incorrect buhh i still understand, the hard work to getting the money and making dem bands,

DATS WHERE IM FROM

-K.N.K.R