exactly how white do I want to be?

came to terms with my whiteness sometime ago,
the dentist mixes in, an offer to refresh my yellowed
pearls, who’ve served admirably long, sure footed,
long in the tooth…

surprisingly, this puts me off guard, uncharacteristically
unprepared,

exactly how white do I want them to be?

mmm…

the scale is as follows (intermediary levels are complicated)

1. Taylor Swift Bright







10. Cowardly Lion Old Yeller

and shades in between, I’ve grown accustomed to to my smile, which is closest to the Lion’s accreted usage and
wear and tear, and decide to stay as is, to keep my body
in a state of synchronicity

Doctor puzzled, “why do I smile?”

Why Doktor!
you’ve commissioned a poem,
and now know why your License Plate
declare you as Dentist so boldly,
You have the power to end racial strife,
uniform the populace with bright headlights,
and clearly should be allowed to proceed
posthaste to any and all life threatening
emergencies

but my preference is to display many decades
of failure, irregular brushes, periodic flossed,
my natural color my god-given grace, and who
am I
OR ANYONE ELSE
be empowered
to disturb the natural order of  human
perfectionism schematics, for
to every season, every human being,
**there is a color unique!