Thursday, May 23, 2013

the archeology of white people

the archeology of white people

I was a white girl in a crowd of white girls in the park
“Pink Rabbits,” The National

“They’re such beautiful shirts,” she sobbed, her voice muffled in the thick folds.
“It makes me sad because I’ve never seen such—such beautiful shirts before.”
Daisy, The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald

we gather into schools all our children
red brown yellow black and white
leaving them all blue

we continue to serve them the food
of Fitzgerald and Hemingway
the archeology of white people

a Lost Generation fabricated to fool
cigarettes chandeliers and swimming pools
such glorious decadent people

we pull the wool over this rainbow of eyes
all lined up in rows of pastel shirts
like Jordan almonds or Easter eggs

“In his blue gardens men and girls
came and went like moths
among the whispering
and the champagne and the stars.”

Ignore the body in the road
we whisper in their tiny innocent ears
Isn’t that golden car spectacular?

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