The pigs,
That's what we called them,
Walked right in to wake me up
From my preschool nap.
The teacher,
She liked orange
Because it is a friendly color,
Chewed them up like a BLT.
Despite her indigestion
The pigs took me out
To the sidewalk by the green grass
For questioning.
They squatted in front of me.
It didn't stop my terror.
I'm pretty sure it tied my tongue.
Really, what could I have said?
Little white girl in a black neighborhood
Did not understand
Then
What the problem was. Is?
But I knew it had something to do with
The Twinkies.
My mom's friend was black,
You see, another color.
He looked suspicious
Picking up a brat like me.
He was pretty cool,
In retrospect,
Offered me a shiny red apple
Like First Lady Obama would.
But there were other colors
On the shelves
At my eye level
Like bright spongy yellow.
And I do remember throwing a fit.
And I do remember getting snatched
Up into his arms
With neither the red nor yellow.
I'm glad I wasn't there
When the black and white,
How ironic,
Cars surrounded him.
But I was taking a nap,
Because after the parade
He took me to school
And I fell asleep after Sesame Street.
Today I read Blue Ribbon owners
Will bid on Twinkies
And Ding Dongs
And other artificial colors.
Maybe I will drink their cheap beer
And remember an old friend.
I could do that.
But I won't eat a Twinkie.
great write! Fabulous title followed up with such a witty, complex and brilliant poem. Will read again - numerously (if that counts as a word).
ReplyDeleteI went back to read it a second time and better grasped the story. Wow. Isnt that astounding that so much would be read into picking up a child from school? Racism alive and well on planet earth. Sigh. Good poem, kiddo. Important topic.
ReplyDelete