Tuesday, June 28, 2005


Remember growing up in Pennsylvania
being told that people of colour were different.
Be afraid of them.
Trash can collection guy was very black.
Last name Booker...
This little reflection stayed with me...ingrained in me.
Until one day in the break room
of a Part Time job I had.
Eating lunch with a girl who was black
Never thought of her as black
took a chip out of the bag
Its was burnt singed in a way
Without knowing feeling thinking
Referred to it as a NIGGA chip...

Deadly silence ensued
A steely glare
From her to me
From Me to Me.

Realizing suddenly
Learned Social
Behaviors are
Monkeys on
Our Shoulders

No Pun

That Lunch
Changed Me.

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