It Feels Like A Stereotype Of Day


It feels like there is

So much to say

But the words aren’t flowing right, like

A stream carries water

And water is only meant

For amphibious or aquatic creatures

That can hold their breath underwater and BOOM

A stereotype already

Didn’t even realize you said it

Now the words are flowing

Why can’t the gentle fish aspire to fly

Without it being dragged back to

“Where it belongs”

Where it belongs? Where’s that?

And who authorizes where people belong?

And who authorizes boundaries?

And why?

Why can’t a black man walk at night

Without being mistaken as a criminal?

And why can’t white men dance?

And why does every Arab have to be associated

With terrorism?

And why do Asians have to be top

Of their class?

And Why can’t Mexicans live our lives

And work hard at department stores as janitors

Because that’s what “uneducated immigrants” should do

And live in the slums with a family of 8 with only enough money to feed 7 mouths

So they sacrifice portions of their meal so the make sure that

Pablo, Pedro, Jose, Jesus, Mariana, Arianna, and Letty

 All eat at least a can of beans?

And when will people realize that Mexicans are not the only immigrants

That have set foot on “American” soil?

So here’s to the well educated African American man

Who happened to be walking home from work

To the white man that

Can dance

To the Arab who shows pride in their religion

By wearing their hijabs

To the dumb Asians

Whose grades are lower than the filthy, dirty, illegal


Who can finally advance in school thanks to the Dream Act

In a world full of the egotistical, stereotypical, the he’s-so-typical

The “she-does-that because”

It’s what they do

It’s what society says they do

Its where “they belong”

In the stream

In the water

Into the mouth that is afraid to let it out

 This one’s for you.




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