您要不要演奏 at the Smithsonian

And here, displayed beneath spotlights
are truths with stolen shadows,
the privilege of America:
strong arms and Space Shuttles
flight pods and Wright Brothers
every last one of them pale.

The Machinery of Democracy
touts one new exhibit
as if the chosen were anything new.

Mixed in with moon walking
and founding fathers
are new found pieces:
- shopkeeper internment and cold winter counts
- African Voices under one title harmonious
- determined women in Seneca Falls
- posters from the occupied Orient
and then, with a smile,
a little something about mail service for
a nation's promise left so undelivered.

Though color has snuck into
textbooks like seep, it is small.
Forget the the "Posters American Style" show:
the bullets above are graphic images.
From these cultural sweatshops
sprung award-winners and heroes,
artists with visions,
what will the next fifty bring
when those who've done without
really do with?

Leaders see through filters, self-visions of color,
what's implied is thus:
some must be in
some must be out,
as if binary thinking's a must.

And to those on the out:
don't ire, don't pout because
your history month shall come,
ghettoizing time for some
even as clock bells toll for all.

May distinction without difference
be found on the playground:
may a white child approach
a newcomer with almond eyes
and say, in Chinese,
would you like to play?

May the checker at 7-11
need no adjective to stereotype
his manhood.

May the factory worker
be denoted not by
ethnicity but skill;
may his wife be talked
about for her compassion,
not her religion -
and may it be just when
the company becomes theirs.

The earth is bound,
believe it my friend,
and it will hold firm
as we address one
another, eye-to-eye,
and grant humanity
to all. Only then
can we dismiss,
lay down, or put to
rest the very notion
that the Earth is flat -
an appropriate way
to begin again.