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A Nation of Color

I feel rather left out of the political process.
No one has asked to see my papers. 
I think it is because I am wrinkled and pink. 

I don't like to say, "pink", but I held a gym sock
up next to my face, and I definitely was not white.
In the same kind of discouraging way, I used to say
that my hair was gray, but everybody else said, "bald".
I cannot bring myself to say my hair is pink.

Barack Obama doesn't have that problem. 
People want to see his papers, and say
that he has taken our country away from us,
mostly because we elected him President,
and he isn't white, or pink.  He is kind of brown,
and that means he probably isn't one of us pinks.
There is some doubt about that, I guess:
some people call him a pinko; you know,
a socialist, or maybe a fascist, or un-Alaskan.

Most Mexicans aren't pink, either, nor are most
Native Americans.  Or Asians.  Or Afro-Americans.
In fact, most human beings aren't pink, which explains
why most human beings aren't Americans. 

What I am sure of is that almost no Americans are white.
A casual stroll down almost any American street
will make it clear that no one looks like a gym sock. 
(I am referring here to a new gym sock!  Any test
of genuine American patriotism that involves a gray
gym sock is not a valid citizenship test.)

So I am puzzled.  No one is really white,
and if you aren't really white, you probably look illegal,
and should show your Kenyan passport. 
We pink people probably just have to take our chances.
We aren't really white.  Certainly not brown. 

Well, most of us pink people will have to risk it: 
not John Boehner, the only pinko who can travel to Arizona,
undocumented, and probably get deported.  He isn't
really tan; more like orange, but it is a chance he takes. 

Please!

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