Zack

José Olivarez, May 29, 2007

Zack was first whiteboy
I ever trusted.
Met him in the third grade.
You can’t be
a wigger in third grade,
but Zack was first whiteboy
my mom refused
to let me befriend.
My mom didn’t have
a problem with white people.
She prayed to a white blue-eyed
Jesus, and told me to get
a white girl to take care of me.

Zack wasn’t white like Jesus
or white girls. Zack played
ball like me, talked in the Midwest
(not middleclass) slang most kids in
our neighborhood talked,
dressed in clothes baggy
enough to contain
our Midwest swag,
but mostly he played ball.

(Basketball is a sport which many// people associate with Black// people.)
(Like Hip Hop.)

No one ever mentioned that Zack
wasn’t typical boy scout, white
wonder bread on the court.
Color didn’t matter on the court.
Skill did and Zack had game.
Basketball was enough to bridge
the gap between us,
but it was up to us
to cross and see

Jesus was white.
Everywhere.