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for Washington D.C.
where pretense and bone structure prevail as credentials of status and beauty. A town bewitched by mirrors, horoscopes and corruption. Arm outstretched from curbside. I'm not pointing to Zimbabwe. I want a cab to take me to Southeast so I can visit my mother. I'm not ashamed to cross the bridge that takes me there. or what I wear the cabs speed by. Or they suddenly brake a few feet away spewing fumes in my face to serve a fair skinned fare. I live in a town where everyone is afraid of the dark. I stand my ground unarmed facing a mounting disrespect, a diminishing patience, a need for defense. I appear to be a criminal. I'm a weird looking muthafucka. Shaggy green hair sprouts all over me. My shoulders hunch and bulge. I growl as blood drips from my glinting fangs. while I wait. Our dinner is cold by now. where pretense and structure are devices of cruelty. A town bewitched by mirrors, horoscopes and blood. |
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About Standards |
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