You step
out of your sport utility vehicle and
begin
fueling on pump number three while I
finish up
on pump number four.
You eye my
braid, my old car, my flute bag
in the
rear window, and that expression comes
onto your
pale, clean-shaven face.
You seem upset
that I don't shuffle, step aside,
show
embarrassment about my dark skin, and
why must I have feathers in plain view?
You are
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