COMMANDO

      E’mon Lauren

      © 2017 E’mon Lauren

      Published in 2017 by

      Haymarket Books

      P.O. Box 180165

      Chicago, IL 60618

      www.haymarketbooks.org

      ISBN: 978-1-60846-943-7

      Trade distribution:

      In the US, Consortium Book Sales and Distribution, www.cbsd.com

      In Canada, Publishers Group Canada, www.pgcbooks.ca

      In the UK, Turnaround Publisher Services, www.turnaround-uk.com

      All other countries, Ingram Publisher Services International,

      [email protected]

      This book was published with the generous support of Lannan Foundation and Wallace Action Fund.

      Cover art by Bianca Pastel.

      For me.

      For baby.

      For Ma Dukes and Daddy.

      For the body.

      For the fighting.

      For the sightings.

      For the bodies.

      For the hood hobbies.

      For the hood lobby.

      For the Englewood droppings.

      For L Town likings.

      For the shooters/hittas/brothas/sistas/movas/drillas/ protecting.

      For the block blessing.

      “I’m only nineteen, but my mind is old.

      And when the things get for real, my warm heart turns cold.”

      —Prodigy of Mobb Deep (Shook Ones PT 2), 1995

      Speak

      i got a family reunion in my mouth. chuuch under my tongue. loud packed loose squared language. bootlegged babble. mild saucy and slick. quick card crackin gramma. squad a sanctuary on my top lip. throw the handles of my cheeks. what’s good in the hood of your mouth? the yo in my yawn. a fugase flap/flick of tongue. southside schtick slobbered. a candy lady’s cabinet. bud and MC lite/Lyte a boombox on my beak. suited and booted. food and liquor leaking. tripping on my tonsil. a(1/k47). the rink skating on my no’s and what consent mean. my gots belong to Giovanni and Jasmine. a different world in a dutch masters. elbows off the table of my teeth. don’t you have any manners. melanin in the suck. Auntie Pokie neck roll caught in my throat. i speak a queer language. color coded. no code switch or swap in my mouth. i hold a rainbow coalition on my tongue. obama care in my back throat. let my Mom claim the baby in my teeth for tax season. i speak sacrifice. urban dictionary in the suburbs. know my rights and speak them. loud. like my music. like my body. like my bossy. i speak my bossy. i speak Trina and Cardi B. i speak womyn runs the house. i speak field and house. i speak house. chicago. chicagu. chic-a-go. redline lingering lick. i speak shaa(r)p. sharp sword. bible translations. revenue. avenues and blvds. stomping grounds when i chew. cabrini mouths Moms greens. leclaire courts on 26th and california. i speak free my mans. i speak free my energy. i speak in royalist. in concrete king/queendoms.

      Mary Lou

      lived in the biggest house on the block

      in l town

      at north ave & leclaire

      the biggest house made for 2 families

      that fit 8.

      the biggest house on the street

      that never got robbed

      on christmas.

      the candy lady for all

      the leslie lewis elementary kids

      even the ones who wouldn’t let me sit at their lunch table

      even the ones who would.

      the best nacho maker on the block

      used two different doritos

      convinced Nikki they’re better than her dad’s tacos

      convinced Nikki food was safe

      even from people darker than her

      even from people who ain’t her.

      the kitchen a hair shop

      on easter and passover

      working on mines,

      and Aiyanna’s

      and Ashley’s

      and Jada’s

      and Gabrielle’s

      and Snookie’s

      and steve’s baby’s

      even the babies he never claimed

      even the baby mamas who claim they got him on child support

      even my sister who never put him on child support

      even my sister who is still a child with 4 children.

      the nanny on the 1st and 15th

      the finesser of a 5 dollar handshake

      10 on my birthday

      20 with good grades

      30 just because it was her last

      from the bills

      1 dollar even if it was her last.

      My Cousin Called Those Redbone Girls ‘Milli Vanillies’

      the milli vanillies are the shorties i learned to fight. the ones that jumped me at rainey. the ones that taught me to juke. the ones that took me to markham. put me on with they ex. fought me after. fucked my mans. who mans still text me. the ones i go to clinics with. watch baby boy with. the ones who lie for love. lie for a bed. lie for a meal. the ones who lye. who screenshot. subtweet. call private. the ones who leave they momma crib. the ones who moms don’t have a crib. the ones who find a mom in other’s. who open everybody fridge. who need the wifi code. who take the hoodies. who never give them back. the ones determined to take. the ones looking for whatever was taken from them. who carry vaseline like a baby. gives theirs like a closed fist. the ones hacking his page. the ones who use windows as shadows. run away from theirs. used as ground. in search of a foundation. build their church in the home of whatever body they have left. the prey of another man’s prayer. the ones that found their god. the ones who hopes he comes home. the ones unsure of what he’s coming home too. the ones unsure of which house he will go to. the ones who know. the lie. the ones who know. the truth. the ones who are lying to

      themselves

      like me.