Ghazal for White Hen Pantry

beverly be the only south side you don’t fit in everybody in your neighborhood color of white hen brown bag tupperware lunch don’t fill you after school cross the street, count quarters with white friends you love 25¢ zebra cakes mom would never let you eat you learn to white lie through white teeth at white hen oreos in your palm, perm in your hair everyone’s irish in beverly, you just missin’ the white skin pray they don’t notice your burnt toast, unwondered bread you be the brownest egg ever born from the white hen pantry in your chest where you stuff all the Black in distract from the syllables in your name with a white grin keep your consonants crisp, coffee milked, hands visible never touch the holiday-painted windows of white hen you made that mistake, scratched your initials in the paint an unmarked crown victoria pulled up, full of white men they grabbed your wrist & wouldn’t show you a badge the manager clucked behind the counter, thick as a white hen they told your friends to run home, but called the principal on you & you learned Black sins cost much more than white ones