Tar’s Fans
by Nevelious Jordan

I used to be a movie star
Unless you’re a pervert, you won’t know what kind they are
I can remember back to when I performed as “Tar”
That’s the name I was given as the only black boy
It started with a white man asking if I wanted a toy
For an 8-year old, that’s one hell of a decoy
I was my parents pride and joy
I wonder if what happened to me…
Hurt them more than myself
The memories still jerk me like whiplash
Wall to wall kids in a damp, cramped cellar
Barely able to count yet photos of us are being snapped
Just before we step in front of the camcorder
Making filth to be shipped along the US and across the border
Child hoarder
That’s what they called the bald man
The bastards he used us to entertain
I recall adults showering me with golden rain
I cried for my family and begged them to refrain
My tears…our tears…were in vain
We even had to touch each other
Babies fondling one another’s tiny bodies
While these men and women call us “hotties”
Wishing they were the ones who took us to potties
We were forced to dress up sometimes
For boys, khakis and plaid shirts
For girls, sweaters and checkered skirts
I guess the attire was part of the fantasy’s appeal
It gave us a real elementary school feel
Each time we were raped, it was taped
I don’t know if police found them all but I’ve tried moving on
It is hard when people are staring
The look in their eyes says it all
They know who I am
And they are fans
The men watching me on the bus
The women I walk past, glaring at me with lust
They are the reason I flinch at a camera’s shutter
And why I start to stutter…
When people say I look familiar
I remember the day I was snatched off the porch
And realize I’m a celebrity in secret
I don’t want to
But the fans force me to keep it