Even Their Gods are Stolen

now it’s all white people
walking the flat pavement
piling into cafés and gastropubs
garbing in vintage apparel shops
places we used to call thrift stores
junk dealers, salvage
but not too long ago
it was middle-aged Latino men
stained white t-shirts
pulled above their bulging brown guts
they’d rub the protuberance
spit on the cracked, uneven sidewalk
drink from the can concealed
inside the black plastic bag
and then there were their daughters
an army of skinny teenaged girls
bellies full and round
pushing a baby in a stroller
that would soon hold two
and waddling three paces back
would be their spherical mothers
grown fat on bleached wheat flour
as if spectres from the future
haunting their lithe, nubile daughters
warning of the shape of things to come
but all that
that was a decade ago
now it’s all…
well, I guess I already told you
what it’s all now
yoga studios and acupuncturists
ain’t a damn thing
white people won’t appropriate for themselves


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