My People

they say my people are loud
that we talk with our hands
sway our hips to sinful beats
beaten by rough palms on conga drums
chug rum like Gatorade on sweat quenching thirsty days
gums clamped down on macheted sugar cane
some think my people,
are a character Al Pachino played
Cuban links, open collars
my people
have always been themselves…
way before ChiChi ever got the yeyo