I realize

i don't know anything

when i talk to you.

Poor, uneducated, street savvy

glassfoot me, who is busy

soaking in the world like a

sponge coral,

observing a

shadows teeth, and a moonseye.

I realize

i don't know anything

when I talk to you.

Bright, book-learned white girl

standing over me as i shift

in my desk, staring at a red D

on a sheet of paper.

I realize

i don't know anything

when I talk to you.

Dirt class, asphalt armed

me, doing my time until

practice, where my kind

can make a difference with

my body, not my mind.