150 Readings | 0 Ratings
If I’m White
I am a dream-puffed cloud
hogging the view
from above
an eggshell cracked too easily
a cony
soft and plump.
I am a cushy mattress
a naked hanger, a sterile cotton swab.
A sugar cube stacked
with all the other sugar cubes
a mail truck
delivering more bad news
a Chicago snowstorm
burying
you.
I am a golf ball
a hotel bathrobe
whipped cream on a macchiato
a chalk arrow on the sidewalk
thick and pointing
at La Raza Nation
wetbacks and
feral cats.
I am sclera swallowing pupil
bone, stiff beneath flesh
formula replacing milk
from your mother’s
sagging
breast
exposed epidermis, alien to dirt
a blister welting
on the heel of
every
olive
I am just a cauliflower head
tucked in a fridge, wondering
what happened to my roots
the warm air
earth and the ripe
smell of sweat.
hogging the view
from above
an eggshell cracked too easily
a cony
soft and plump.
I am a cushy mattress
a naked hanger, a sterile cotton swab.
A sugar cube stacked
with all the other sugar cubes
a mail truck
delivering more bad news
a Chicago snowstorm
burying
you.
I am a golf ball
a hotel bathrobe
whipped cream on a macchiato
a chalk arrow on the sidewalk
thick and pointing
at La Raza Nation
wetbacks and
feral cats.
I am sclera swallowing pupil
bone, stiff beneath flesh
formula replacing milk
from your mother’s
sagging
breast
exposed epidermis, alien to dirt
a blister welting
on the heel of
every
olive
foot.
I am just a cauliflower head
tucked in a fridge, wondering
what happened to my roots
the warm air
earth and the ripe
smell of sweat.
Posted 08/27/13
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