Dinner Guest: Me

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Dinner Guest: Me

By Langston Hughes

I know I am
The Negro Problem
Being wined and dined,
Answering the usual questions
That come to white mind
Which seeks demurely
To Probe in polite way
The why and wherewithal
Of darkness U.S.A.--
Wondering how things got this way
In current democratic night,
Murmuring gently
Over fraises du bois,
"I'm so ashamed of being white."

The lobster is delicious,
The wine divine,
And center of attention
At the damask table, mine.
To be a Problem on
Park Avenue at eight
Is not so bad.
Solutions to the Problem,
Of course, wait.

Langston Hughes was a part of the Harlem Renaissance poetic movement I was deeply moved after reading this poem. I almost didn't write my poem. How dare I compare mere emotionalism to polite prejudice... and the weight of racism, slavery, injustice, the continuous battle to achieve true emancipation? Still, I saw that there is a slight similarity as those who are "well-meaning" are innocently insensitive, sit in a position of priviledge and dole out what they believe is kindness. So, this was written in response...

(After Langston Hughes)

I hadn’t known 
my infertility was their problem;
The adult table contracts
from a toddler’s wide wobble
while over a gavel — I mean, 
a rattle — and in between 
chip resistant plates 
advice is served, lukewarm.
“You’re trying too hard,” 
says the pregnant one 
who glows like a dim nightlight. 
Another nurses as though 
she was the one feeding off the babe
and why, why couldn’t the loud 
suckling swallow her oblivious
“I get pregnant if he just looks at me.
I couldn’t even imagine
being barren.” A girl’s head gilds 
jeaned thighs with the sweet 
piercing of curls, but the mother sighs 
“Go on, now" and to me quips
“I should just give you 
one of mine.” Then the cake is lit, 
another year has passed 
away. Happy Birthday
to you and you and you —
It hollows me from the outside
in. Tonight soundlessly breaks.
The tot eyes the trick candle,
makes a wish. Wait and
wait and wait and...

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Hannah Borke

Date: 3/16/2021 7:40:00 PM

Appreciate your poem. I have found there’s never the right thing to say to someone waiting to be pregnant. If you avoid the topic, it is sensed and hurts. If you speak freely about babies, you’re insensitive. If you let know early on about a pregnancy, it hurts. If you wait before letting know, it hurts more. You want to be a friend but can’t be loose and natural.