So This Fancy-Shmancy, Whitey-Ditey Museum Stuck Its Only Black Exhibit In Its Basement
On The Highest Level
The Most Contemporary Art Was Showcased
Was Out For Everyone To Admire
The Second Highest
The American Art
Held Brave Fixtures Fixated On Reminiscing On The Early Days
The Pale Matte Ambiance Before
Before The Black Art Began Renaissancing
Black Art Was Renaissancing.
They Just Weren’t Included
Weren’t Fixated On
In This Reminisce
Next The Lower Level
Just Above Lobby
Eurocentricity Took Me On A Whirlwind Back To History Class
Back To My Most Silent Time
What A Strange Memory To Have
[aside – i strolled into a room full of various type of trees/ this took me to very dark place /where whites and trees look at me /like the oddest fruit in suburban breeze]
Latinx Art Was Nowhere To Be Found.
Asian Architecture Had No Location Here
If You Could Find Her,
If Someone Told You About Her,
If You Had A Strong Inclination She Should Be There,
Mama Africa And Her Pride
A Hidden Figure In The Corner
Away From The Mainstream Narrative
Away From The Nice, Bright American, European and Contemporary art
Threw Mama And Her Pride Under The Gutter Of A Welcome Sign
Away From Her Previous Colonizers
Previous Masters, Rapists, Murderers
The High Museum Of The Eurocentric Arts Did This.
And Maybe They Did It Out Of Respect.
Maybe They Didn’t.
Maybe They Just Didn’t Think About It.
Ogechi N. Ofodu, 19, Atlanta’s Youth Poet Laureate 2017-2018 and sophomore at Georgia State University. Photo by Maya Martin, 16, VOX summer intern.