“my sister can’t take the bus 

because she’s too dark”

i sit silent knowing what 

is next...

“the White kids all call us

beaners and the n-word

there’s this stop where 

all the Mexican kids have 

to get on, that’s when 

they start. My sister wouldn’t

last”

they know, they 

sweep, sweep, sweep it

i sigh as it passes me

confederate flag the size of 

a bed sheet 

dances on the back of 

A suped up pickup truck

dances on the back of…..

i sit down to pee

i so rarely get the chance 

between classes

and it is there again to great me

while my skirt is down

in all my Blackness

“Nigger”

they know, they

sweep, sweep, sweep it

it stalks me now

after a 16 hour day

it waits for me on the dusty back

of my car window

a reminder of who they hate

“Niggers”

in this wholesome place

where i teach  eager faces

about Black artists

Black  magic

I am feared and revered

by such nice White children