Satan with Du Bois’ Help Steals The Souls of Black Folk
by Sabrina Dawkins
A darkness tried to suffocate me
as I started reading The Souls of Black Folk.
“It’s a powerful spell,” I thought,
a demon pretending to be a black man.
As I tried to walk through its quicksand,
I felt his poetic, Harvard words
like ghost arms and hands
pulling me downward
into a spirit-dampening abyss.
But God pulled me out, giving visions.
I now know the power of a witch:
He was chanting subtly
blacks cannot win.
As I read, in my mind’s eye
was a serpent tongue whispering,
left profile,
slick black hair,
mulatto skin.
W. E. B. Du Bois indeed
had double consciousness:
Two souls were within.
But one prevailed,
and it was the soul of Cain,
son of the serpent,
who wrote with Du Bois’ pen.