calls me into her office
white business owner boss,
"My daughter wants to have a baby with a black guy. What do you think?"
Mixed race me,
"Well its pretty complicated..."
white business owner boss,
"But they are so cute and the skin tone is so nice."
Mixed race me,
"I think she should first make love with me on your desk and then move from there."
white business owner boss,
"Ok great! I'm giving you a 50 cent raise."
Mixed race me,
"Wow! Thank you sir...I mean maam. When can I get started?"
white business owner boss masogynist,
"You know how incestuous (excessively close and resistant to outside influence) we white family business owners are? I want to cheer you on and make sure you make her happy. Or else!
Hehe. I might even want a turn."
crickets...
and the crowd goes wild
which is the employees,
"Oh my gosh! This is incredible! I think he is going to get workers comp!"

“Do you know, to my thinking it's a good thing sometimes to be absurd; it's better in fact, it makes it easier to forgive one another, it's easier to be humble. One can't understand everything at once, we can't begin with perfection all at once! In order to reach perfection one must begin by being ignorant of a great deal. And if we understand things too quickly, perhaps we shan't understand them thoroughly.”

They'll tell you to listen to your heart like you have another option...
they'll insist on saying the answer dwells there
even when it's clear your heart is an empty place
with nothing but cracks bearing monstrous crevices
which leak away whatever little sense that finds its way there.
They'll implore you to stretch and strain the
stiff neck of your faith to the chest of the unfathomable,
and listen to the silent pulse of a fate far beyond the touch
of your feeble faith,something even a flexible python of hope can't do,
a thing even the Ostrich of optimism finds searing hurt doing.
They'll implore because they can't understand the depth
of the **** you've been through or smell its odourless pungent stink...
Because they lack the bravery to face your phantom,
to courageously plough through the pitch of the life you've endured,
because they lack the foresight to envision or
the mind's eye to see the invisible distance you have left to chew,
because they can't swallow even one spoonful of the bitter
mound of history you carry along on your journey to an uncertainty
you are not sure you'll reach... an illusive destination.
They'll tell you to listen to your heart because they lack
the ears of empathy to hear the deafening silence of the bangs of your doldrums...
neither do they have the wings to soar through the violent
winds of your despair or feet it takes to walk in your shoes...
they will speak with an orator's eloquence,stuttering
foolish words of wisdom because they are blank of how deep shards
of a broken heart can cut...they will implore you to be a man,
because they know a lot of nothing about being a man
one of which is men don't cry... they haven't been in presence
of the silent sobs of masculinity whose tears are buried
with dead hearts in the tombs of hypocrisy.
You'll hear very many voices for each splinter will speak for itself
but insistently and persistently they'll push you to the edge
of the cliff of your disarray ignorant of the star filled sky billion choices
twinkling on each glistening piece of the mirror like shards of your heart...
This they'll do because that's just what humans have been
channelled off course the river of true humanity to do...
tell you they've got your back so you can confidently
expose yourself to the deepest stub...boost your morales
so that you can stupidly climb to dizzying heights,
tell you they'll catch you only to film you jump to your hardest fall...
they'll promise to help you cleanse your dead just to see
whether you'll frown at their stench,and to curse
and mock in case you spit... they'll tell you that the path out of
your labyrinth is mapped across your heart simply to enjoy
seeing you wonder rudderless in the Sea of discombobulation...
Humans, they'll offer to circumcise you freely just to laugh at you
when you wince at the cruel touch of the blunt knife of their shameless daring...
they'll give you pills so they can mock at the difficulty
their bitterness brings at ingestion...
they'll tell you to listen to your heart like you didn't hear
your own jumbled heartbeat before you opted for their ugly opinions...
they'll say it, enjoying the moment and beautifully...
"your Heart knows it all" like you have another option besides your hurt.
and you will follow not because they said
but because you have no other boulevard to take