I Have a Stapler, If You Need Assistance

Colored people,
she called them.

They hold a grudge.

She pointed to the
colored man
with her wrinkled
finger.

I could feel it
through her
light
blue eyes.

She was serious.

She always is,
but this time,
she meant
business.

She even went into
a rant,
of course,
after he left,
about how a
colored lady
got in front of her and her family
at a show
in Venice Beach.

30 years ago.

The colored lady
gave her a
look,
as she said it,
and danced
as if to
mock her.

30 years ago.

Talk about holding a grudge.

I really didn't
pay her
much
attention.

My only curiosity was,
I wonder what
she is
really
saying?

I had to deal 
with one of 
them
today.

A nigger?

Yes. 

I 
fucking 
hate 
them.

Maybe she doesn't.

My overactive imagination
can get the best of me
sometimes.

But I will never know.

Never want to.

There's no more room left
in my mind
for any more
stupidity.

On that level.

So why doesn't
everybody
who thinks
like this,
do us all
a favor:

Shut your mouth.

I have a stapler,
if you need
assistance.