Racing
by Grant Crusor
Copyright 2011 Grant Crusor
Smashwords Edition
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Other titles available from Grant Crusor:
Underneath
the Third Generation
Keep
On
The
Great Equalizer
Poem
for Chapel
Time
to Double-back
Underneath the Third Generation
A father gives his baby boy
preferential
treatment
over his oldest born daughter
Keeps her bound in
veiled love
because of culture
Litter all over the ground
they walk on
The teens’ head is wrapped
the babys’
feet are bare
Forgot what if felt like
to have Cheetos bags
blow and
nearly hit her hair
She stares
at the sight of
another one of his cries
He quickly gets his way
a little more
of her dies
Almost to the car
back seat so far
from
a front of living equal
The teen takes to a withdraw
from big
sister, little mother
from big daughter after little brother
To
a freedom in her shawl
known only by one
woman to another
What america sees as blinding
she knows as
binding
Holding her young soul together
perfect timing
Ten
minute ride home is a
ten-year paradise zone
Living within her
thoughts and dreams
these
a male figure will never hold
Keep On
Keep on
Little soldier
Keep on
Little scholar
Keep on
Little artist
Little activist
Little leader
Little believer
Keep on
Little girl
Little boy
Playing in the street
On the sidewalk
On
the front lawn
Keep on
Playing
In the clouds that now rain on
my
Ever gray everyday
Keep on
Playing
In the stars I only dream of
reaching
Keep on
Playing
In the childlike imagination and
dreams
Life on earth didn’t get the chance to kill
Keep on
Little child
My memory of you
Keeps on
Keeps me going
on
Keeps me going strong
Also makes me weak from the pain
Of
missing you
Keeps me holding on
A bullet is no way to ride to
Heaven
but,
Little angel of God,
Keep on
The Great Equalizer
Some moved miles and miles away
While
others haven’t moved from the same spot
they’ve been in all
day.
Each with their presumptions of the other
Each believing
without a doubt
they are better than the other
Each more like
the other than they know
The trek is made weekly from the suburbs to
the city
for church and other activities that reassure ethnicity
The trek is made weekly from city block
innards
to the local public square of together and blue
collar-ness
Same thing
every Sunday night
Some by
bus
Some by Benz
Each with equal opportunity at
chocolate
bars for basketball team uniforms and
“mines is good copies”
music and movies
as they wait in line.
Intertwined,
one
behind the other.
Where not merely green alone
but green and
white
erase the demarcations of “other.”
Peacefully, yet,
approaching impatiently,
orders are meticulously devised,
steps
are inched forward,
hot grease on frozen skin and potatoes
inhaled,
crying babies ignored,
and
the brotha who bathed
in Black and Mild smoke
stumbles from booth to booth
hoping
Obama’s “change” will ease the process of
your pocket to
his for another tease to his veins.