Meghan Markle, half-black, half-white
the future princess of Wales
sits with Prince Harry and the royal family
for her first christmas dinner at Buckingham Palace.
There, there in the royal crowd
is the old Princess of Kent wearing
a brooch of a bust of a black woman
fetischising the blacks of their past colonies.
Heat rushes to the skin of Meghan Markle
She lowers her gaze in grace to temper down
her rage for the old princess whose presence
made it hard for her to breath in the palace air.
You cannot iron out the tails of dogs
They are born with twisted tails
The only thing you can do is
to cut them out from the roots.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem