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Culture Documents
oklahoma
DC
brooklyn
will not help me remember
ikom
ugep
calabar
they will also not let me forget fingers sticky with fuu fuu
swallowed whole
or tongues stinging numb from plantain fried in palm oil
But I have lost the grit and the grain of my grandmother's gari
I can't taste past this nostalgic lump in my throat
can't stomach the reality of this my divided culture
African
American
I am everything
And I am nothing
Nigeria quietly begs me to remember
While America slowly urges me to forget
but it's for my past
It's for my future
it is for my children
and it is for you, grandmother
that I must
always
always
remember.