Random Selection

“You have been randomly selected”
says a bored man, as he extracts
an apology
for all 6’3” of me. Meat,
that
is now carved
by blue eyes and blue fingers and
vibrating wands looking for
weapons (that are illegal to carry
where I come from) as
I try to fly.

I try to fly, but
am weighed down
by the color of my
(passport’s)
skin, and the length
of my beard and
vowels, and only after
long last do I get permission
(permission!)
to set foot
(much like Columbus)
on this land.

...

How much greater
will you make this country?