I wrote this poem to make my brain shut up. I wrote this poem to make my father shut up. I wrote this poem to make John Donne shut up. Shut up, "boys will be boys." Shut up, "All Lives Matter." My blackness won't shut up. Shut up, mother's side of the family, with your mofongo and your judgment. Shut up, college tuition. Shut up, English teachers and your academia. J. Alfred Prufrock is all of us. Shut up, Prufrock. You don't know me. I am writing this poem to make my heart speak up. I am writing this poem to make my mother speak up. I am writing this poem to make Toi Derricotte speak up. Speak up, prison reform. Speak up, "No." Speak up, postpartum depression. Speak up, suicide. Speak up, uterus. Speak up, 10th grade boys who want a new body. Speak up, Panama Papers. Speak up, tax brackets. Speak up, whoever Shakespeare wrote his sonnets about. We see you. Give yourself a name.
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