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ST. NIGGER

They told me you were filth, although I never knew you. 

I learned to dread you; your appearance shrieked silent DANGER.

You all look the same, which means you’re all DANGEROUS.

I’m safe in places clear of you, and clutch my purse in places near to you.

For all the songs I’ve heard, and the shows I’ve seen

describe you as being very, very MEAN.

And for that I do not know you

And for that there are boundaries we cannot cross

And for that I cannot pretend to know your songs

And for that I do not sing your songs

And for that my children are taught

                                To cover their ears

                                To cover their eyes

                                To not speak your language

But for that you’ve become quite a nuisance

A pest; a pest we’ll never know

And finally, through all the courage I could muster

I looked beyond the yellow tape, beyond the orange cones,

                beyond the parental advisory.

I was really eyeing you with sinful eyes.

I saw the beauty in our differences.

Today I touched you by an invented accident.

I spoke with you.  I began to know you.  I began

to reach, to discover, to know our differences,

and to see the ugliness of their lives.  I begin to love

the strangeness of knowing you.