Resolutely
I jump off the train
Await
my lover
In
the barbershop
Old
worn black barbers
Shave
and style
Young
black men’s heads
I
intrude
And
still I am welcomed
Phone
rings
I
answer
Playing
secretary
Wanting
so badly
To
be accepted
Am
I stuck in my whiteness?
Unspoken
desperation
Desire
for acceptance
For
a brief time
We
connect
The
humor of our game
Our
barbershop quartet
Plays
on.
(Written on February 22, 1991 in Michigan City, Indiana)
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