“Can we please stop talking about race?”

You demand as you casually spit out “those people”

As an insult to group all your prejudice into one demongraphic

Unaware that you are talking about my friends.

And the beautiful children of my friends.

And their friends.

And their friends.




It’s as if your fear of the unknown

Has manifested into your own inner demons

Which are circling the deep chasm between

Your head and your heart

Whispering lies of mistrust and distrust

Missed trust?

Dissed trust?

What happened to you

That brought you to this evil place

Of hating someone you have never even met?

Are you able to lean into a deep breath

And consider how ludicrous that notion is

For even just a minute?

Like some kind of drug-enduced hallucination?

Out of sync machination

Or off-beat verberation

A part-hate vilification

Perhaps simply a personification

Of a childhood narration

About the shadowy boogeyman

Who had set up shack under your bed?

It seems that hate wasn’t so pronounced

When you needed someone to come and clean your house

Tend your garden

Raise your children…

You even showed a glimpse of your humenmity

When you kept aside special dishes and cups

That only they were allowed to use

Those people

With their communist ideas and their dreams and their creativity

Those people

With their antagonistic love of family and fears of what the future might hold

Those people

With their arrogant desire for three meals a day

Their entitled protesting for basic sanitation in their places of homeprisonment

The constant reminder of that system we used to have that saw them as less than human

[If you look hard enough you can see it peering through the layer of paint we tossed at it]



Stop with your accusations and your wordplay

Your thinly veiled judgements

Quit suggesting I am out of touch

With the lived life experiences of those who don’t look like me

Some of my best maids were black!

Can’t we just paddle out

And discuss this reasonably over the break?