It Feels Like A Stereotype Of Day
Location
It feels like there is
So much to say
But the words aren’t flowing right, like
A stream carries water
And water is only meant
For amphibious or aquatic creatures
That can hold their breath underwater and BOOM
A stereotype already
Didn’t even realize you said it
Now the words are flowing
Why can’t the gentle fish aspire to fly
Without it being dragged back to
“Where it belongs”
Where it belongs? Where’s that?
And who authorizes where people belong?
And who authorizes boundaries?
And why?
Why can’t a black man walk at night
Without being mistaken as a criminal?
And why can’t white men dance?
And why does every Arab have to be associated
With terrorism?
And why do Asians have to be top
Of their class?
And Why can’t Mexicans live our lives
And work hard at department stores as janitors
Because that’s what “uneducated immigrants” should do
And live in the slums with a family of 8 with only enough money to feed 7 mouths
So they sacrifice portions of their meal so the make sure that
Pablo, Pedro, Jose, Jesus, Mariana, Arianna, and Letty
All eat at least a can of beans?
And when will people realize that Mexicans are not the only immigrants
That have set foot on “American” soil?
So here’s to the well educated African American man
Who happened to be walking home from work
To the white man that
Can dance
To the Arab who shows pride in their religion
By wearing their hijabs
To the dumb Asians
Whose grades are lower than the filthy, dirty, illegal
Mexican
Who can finally advance in school thanks to the Dream Act
In a world full of the egotistical, stereotypical, the he’s-so-typical
The “she-does-that because”
It’s what they do
It’s what society says they do
Its where “they belong”
In the stream
In the water
Into the mouth that is afraid to let it out
This one’s for you.