They said,
“What are you, anyway?”
I pretended I didn’t know
What they were talking about.
“I’m me, that’s who.”
(Even though I knew what they were getting at.)
“No, but what are you?” They asked,
“You know what I mean.”
“I just belong here,” I said,
In a way, not so specific,
Wanting them to say exactly what they meant.
“Okay, what race are you?” they said,
with resignation and emphasis.
“I just am curious, because I need a label to
organize you with my things that make sense.
I’ve got a black and white world;
I don’t see any color now, you see.
Blue, black, polka-dots,
Green orange, and brown
How, your skin intrigues me.
Because,
you speak English so well…
No accent detected;
So what are you, anyway?
I’m listening.”
I linger over my thoughts
Should I give what they want?
Or make them suffer because
I won’t box myself up.
Amused at the game,
But tired of the ignorance.
Don’t you know WHAT I am
Isn’t defined by YOUR methods?
Labeling fast and cutting out
a paper doll world,
Dimensions withheld,
It’s all just fake acceptance.
It’s all just….a warped perspective.
This nonsensical conversation,
In the first 5 minutes of meeting;
Identify now so you can assess me,
Up in an ethnic closet you’ll arrange me.
“I’m American!”
I proclaim, just to drag it out.
I’ll help you dig your grave now.
And, at the end of the day,
I’ll giggle a bit.
Did I teach a lesson,
Or just waste my breathe?
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