Hope, like a small pecker
The days have been lame with rage
Rage in the streets
While the new America lights a torch
Rage in the news feed
And mobs yell for heads to roll
Rage in the voices
The heads of the white liberal
Rage in the ego
The heads of the working class
Rage in the graffiti
And the person of color
Rage in the heart
The lesbian
Rage in the spleen
The damn dirty ones
Rage in the sphincter
All whom the mob despises
Which is to say
Everyone
Because the mob is neither straight nor gay
Liberal nor conservative
Brown nor pale
Man nor woman
The mob is
doom
A Deathwatch beetle
But the mob didn’t see it
Today
When the African American
Teller at the bank
Greeted me with a kind smile
A warm laugh
And offered me a much appreciated
Bottle of water
Nor did the mob see it
When the Mexican American
Blocked the crosswalk with his truck
Then opened his door
To offer profuse apologies
Before giving me a smile
With a friendly wave
And driving off
These are small moments
Human moments
Tableaus in the common scheme
A little thing
Just like my dick
But that doesn’t stop me from enjoying it