Jamal was pissed.
insisting to his sister
loudly on his Samsung,
-build the wall, build the wall.
His interview had gone badly
and he suspected
that the manager, Mr Garcia
was holding out the position
for some damn cousin
up from some god damn
fuck'n Burritoville
like the three senoritas
he saw working the register
and the sandwich counter.
He glared at the rest of us
waiting for the bus
like he didn't care who
was listening.
Maria and Meifeng
stared at the ground.
Joyce, the transit Inspector
the one who looks like
a caramel hip hop dream,
leaned up against the window
outside the new Philz Coffee,
rolled her eyes, curled her lip,
caught my glance with a sadly
knowing nod as if to say,
What world does the brother
wanna be livin' in? walled up
like a whites only country club?
This Trump bullshit is getting thick.
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