Lessons From Pho

I walk into the
Pho place on
Mississippi
Ironic that not
To long ago
We all would have
Been lynched there
As that practice
Is still practiced
Those doors of
Hate never close
Outside the residue
Of the sneaky snow
Storm leaked everywhere
The familiar chill was
In the air
As we got teased
By those 70 degree
Days
Last week where I spent
Me time in the park
Sipping lemonade
While strolling through an
Old book store on Colfax
Where worn souls of
Authors pulsed
Beneath pseudo
Writers' blocks
Where the moss
Grows in spurts
And inspiration flows
Time is lost and suspended
Where nothing matters
But the words
I had to catch myself
Day dream broken
By the steam and aroma
Of my meal
As the bowl of
Overpriced noodles with
The thin slices of
Meat tugged at
The carnivore
In me
The vegetables
Made think
Of the whipping
I got for not eating
Rabbit food
And still here
Years later
The hare is
Teaching me
Lessons
Outside the race
He lost
I experimented
With Cayenne fused
Srirhacha laced spices
That were hot on
My tongue
So like life, adjustments
Had to be made on the fly
I tried the chopsticks
But was only a novice
At using them
At least I tried
Should have tried
Harder and longer
Then the lesson
Of patience would
Have appeared
I ate till I was bursting
At the seams
So I then learned that
Gluttony was a sin
I left there and went
To the DMV to take
The written test
I handed the woman
The questionnaire
As she stared
At me and said
24 out of 25
Her facial
Expression
Gave me lessons in
Ignorance
Stupidity
Stereotypes and
Racism as
Life's painful
Lessons were
Lessened by an
Overpriced bowl
Of soup