Strange

you
in the café
when you looked at me sideways
because i. sat next to you
(brown girl in a brown shirt with a brown
'fro)
i. ignored it
and i. half smiled
(how silly
that i. should disturb you so much from
the thesis/dissertation/brief/manuscript
you were writing and the
newspaper/philosophic/Coulter/Buchanan/O'Reilly-esque treatise
you were reading!)

you
in the café
when you started
to twitch and
twist
and rub your forearms against
the table,
when you flipped pages absently
forwards, then backwards,
all with eyes narrowed
casting glances at my worn
brown boots
at my slender brown fingers
typing frantically away,
at my brown ('fro) bent over
page after page of radicalwomanofcolorlovenotes
well
it got a little distracting
(read your damn book would you? what
is the problem?)

you
in the café
when you suddenly thrust back from your
high chair
slammed your thesis/dissertation/brief/manuscript
SHUT
and thrust the newspaper/philosophic/Coulter/Buchanan/O'Reilly-esque treatise
under your arm
when you swept
(dramaticallytriumphantlyheroically)
from that fine dining establishment
shooting rabidlydisturbedbyracetooclose lightning bolts of
privilege & bias in my direction
(aiming, in particular, for the 'fro but missing and hitting my silver hoop
earrings instead)
when you then gave a final brisk whirl out the door

well

all i. had to say was

fuck you too.