Running with Marcus as a rich white man
chased us in his BMW was way more fun
than playing with the remote control cars
my parents bought me that Christmas.
After careful examination of our neighborhood
he catches us running up my driveway.
My mother ends up having to pay for the
damage the rocks we threw did to his car.
At dinner, mother bans me from hanging
with Marcus as she could never envision
her white Christian son being the troublemaker
when a black child is also involved.
I protest, she says, “Marcus is a bad influence.
If he told you to jump off a bridge, you would.”
Later that night he throws a rock at my window,
says, “want to go jump off a bridge with me?”
The water is black as heaven.
The fall is freeing and forever.
Justin Blackburn, “Farting Fire”
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