WHITE MAN

SALAI

                                                                                                                                                                                                          
White man, white man, it’s hard not to hate you, white man. 
On Monday you’re suited, with coffee and briefcase in hand. 
Your son at the school where the kids have piano, karate, and baseball, 
whatever Johnny demands. 
And your wife goes to brunch with the girlies, where they ask me 
Is there gluten in this cheese brand?
Then on Tuesday you’re the bus driver who tells me, 
Don’t you have the bus app?
I do, as a matter of fact
Ten minutes ago, turned into twenty, then thirty, 
and you didn’t even budge on the map
I should’ve just order the uber then relied on this bullcrap
But on Wednesday you’re the man behind the design 
An app to track when I’m desperate, so the price drops as a sign
To forget the bus stop, and pay the small fee, but you wait just a bit
So, when the bus gets more closer, the price drops once more just in time
this sounds like a crime
This leads into Thursday, where you speed past me walking, with American bells
There’s six of you already…
All for the man that talked back, 
this seems way too petty
Then you sound the alarm, in your big truck, bought with my tax money,
All spent like confetti
Easy now, hold that gun steady…
On Friday you’re on the news
CEO tells Americans, just eat less, just drink less, just be less
It’s the weekend, and you walk down the street in all white
Because you can do that
You can wear white shoes, white socks, white shirt, white, white
Then on Sunday you rest, and eat oysters, drink wine, have dessert 
White man, white man, it’s hard not to hate you, white man
Because, you can be anything
But I’m just a faggot, an alien, a wetback.