Ransom fed my Father's Life,
Do not deign to write a Mystery,
Rather Crack-Cocaine and Modern Art,
Could be a sufficient History,

Apollinaire and Conrad,
were required reading,
Yet Bache-Martin Elementary School,
was the Education I was needing.

I was white, and they were Black,
This was around 1990,
A Philadelphia Tool,
A lunch-bag snack,
A cracker kid getting Grimy,

The Blacks,
They were a feral lot,
They let me know I was White,
And to be absolutely honest,
They were indeed,
Quite Right.

I can't begrudge the past,
Nor complain about the future,
This leaves me with the bleeding Present,
that I desperately need to suture.