April 5

"bus stop man"

his eyes were like looking at the moon through pollution:
intimately acquainted with edges,
yellow and somehow more full than
the bruises would warrant;
“the only religion I like is taoism” he said
“and sometimes islam” and when I tried to say
“islam is from the word for peace” this
empty whiskey bottle of a man
with more journey in his gums than entire teeth said
“salaam alaikum, I know” like the years
I spent convincing my brother that
brown, terrorist, and muslim
are not synonyms
was a candle that did not deserve the lightning
of the thing I called “double standard” and this brittle bus stop man
called “racism.”