They never count you in their census,
Until you talk without an accent.
Overly nice and obliging,
Emphatic that you are the exception.
As if diction were quantum physics,
They are very careful with words.
Too careful to step on the toes
They think shouldn’t exist.
Occasionally, you inbox dark
Pages from your past.
You can almost hear them chewing
Over the emotional benefit.
A whole race of people,
Tagged with the worst of adjectives.
Condemned to the lowest rank;
A legacy they then diligently uphold.
“Ignore the differences,”
Whispers from a pulpit.
I then said, “69!”
Only the pastor turned his head.
Let’s doggy to our DNA!
©Herbert Uba 2017