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The Silent Observer
by Joy Reid
She comes to the counter
Smiling sweetly, nodding meaningfully.
She holds out the purchase,
Mimes it is broken.
How hard it is to say what she means.
The words won't come in this foreign speech.
She steps back from the counter,
Her lips disappearing in lines of disapproval.
Another bloody wog with an unreasonable gripe,
Waving her arms about like a wind mill in a cyclone.
How hard it is to suffer their stupidity.
They should be made to learn the right words.
Turning to me, she appeals to my confederacy,
Her eyes an invitation to join in silent ridicule.
Turning to me, she appeals for help,
Her eyes an expressive plea for intervention.
Facing them both,
I consider my allegiance,
Make my decision,
And step to Mum's side.
"The Silent Observer" is copyright © 2000 by Joy Reid. All Rights Reserved.
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