Whose hoods these are, I think I know


Whose hoods these are, I think I know.

The mall need not reject them, though

Their money is still welcome here:

their skin’s as white as purest snow.

 

Security accepts the queer

without a same-sex spouse too near

but to a black man’s face, a frozen lake

is warmer than guards act all year.

 

They give the black shoppers a shake

to ask if there is some mistake

while whites move round in dainty sweep

of ignorance to please Jeff Flake

 

The hoods spark fears too dark and deep

for black men to have rights to keep.

And white minds now can go to sleep

And white minds now can go to sleep.

 

Ah, capitalism! The great leveler! The true herald of the color-blind world! All praise!

Or not: Unfortunately, for them, the story did go gang agley.

 

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