
I saw this glass
in a thrift store.
It took me back
early 1980’s.
A true story
with a twist.
My nemesis
from younger days –
the Teacher
who opined
that Black Boys
were
just hoodlums
in training –
at best
and that I
could NEVER
be a newspaper
writer.
She bore an eerie
resemblance to
Grimace of the
McDonald’s
commercials.
When I saw this
glass I thought
of her.
She even had
a purple dress
that brought
the look home.
I often remember
trying to reconcile
her attempts to
minimize my
self worth
while being
shaped like a
bullet with
arms.
Joke was on her
then and especially
now.

That Black Boy became
a man would
who would wield
a pen and a
long memory.
She tried to make me grimace –
but wholly failed to diminish
not knowing that I was heralded
from knees that would
refuse to bend.
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