1974: an edit of "Bullies"

I'm so angry!


THE REST OF IT GOES HERE
1974
I first wanted to piss on the Man when I was seven
Dad took me to a baseball game-- Detroit Tigers
These guys with guns and blue hats were struttin’
all around outside the ball park like bullies on the playground
My hand grew cold inside my dad’s warm grip
“Be glad you’re not black,” he said--“they get picked on,
beaten, thrown in jail.”
“By the guys with guns and blue hats?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said--“be glad you’re not black.”
This wasn’t reassuring
I didn’t tell my dad I got picked on too
I was convinced that these assholes with guns and blue hats
would sense my fear, beat me, throw me in jail.
We approached the ticket gate
as the assholes patrolled,
their guns orange with reflected dusk
their faces dumb and pissed and determined to kick ass.
One of them yelled at a black man
like he was a little boy.
I was a little boy
I prayed that we might pass,
and we passed.
I told Dad I was sick.
We left by the third inning,
got safely home
and I wrote for the first time:
I wrote a story about killing the bullies on the playground
who picked on boys like me.
I wrote about killing the bullies with guns and blue hats
who picked on blacks.
I was seven and didn’t know much
but it felt good to write.
I thought to myself:
I’ll write till I have the courage to kill them,
and when that day comes they’ll kill me,
but I’ll take a few down
and die happy.
GO TIGERS!