The stainless steel is cold in my hand,
except for the place touched by my lips
where I blew as hard as I could
and barely heard a whine.
Rabid dogs came running, tails
wagging, mouths foaming, ready
to vote for anyone promising
to hurt folks with a darker skin.
Some of my best friends are Black.
The War of Northern Aggression
was fought over State Rights.
Heritage, not hate.
But the pickup trucks with the stars
and bars and the radio audible
from across the lot declaring
someone a D. E. I. hire,
tell me otherwise.
(for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt.)
About Bartholomew Barker
Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he lives and writes poetry.
Bartholomew Barker, Poet 
This brought to mind ‘Diamond Dogs’ by Mr. Bowie – who saw many things….. https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/davidbowie/diamonddogs.html
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That something I wrote brought to mind Bowie is a high compliment. Thank you, Bernie! It’s been years since I listened to that album.
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Give it a listen – I see it as being relevant to our times.
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Your opening stanza pulled me right into your poem. So glad I stayed.
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Thank you very much, LuAnne! The opening stanza is there to pull the reader in and final stanza should give them something to take away.
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