a thug in my eye

my mom saw me yesterday and said i looked like a thug to her, so i began to wonder how people viewed me today. i had on a XL southpole shirt, some pure white dickies and some black air force ones. was playing around with some words- came up with this piece:


his shirt was so big
maybe an XL when what
he really needed was a medium.
those pants hung to the ground
like a sweater
on a weak wire hanger
in the summer time-
untouched
not really in place,
and his car was clean
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM
his radio blasted.
the bass surrounded me-
felt like I lived in the subwoofer
in the trunk of his car;
like the old lady in the shoe.
his shoes were jet black-
the color of rubber tires
when armor all is applied to them-
clean,
the first thing others noticed.
and his jewelry- so simple yet so elegant;
an old horse with a new saddle.
not too much.
just enough to let you know
that he enjoyed looking good,
enjoyed the eyes that peered at him
from across the parking lot.
a thug in my eye.
his style, his swagger, his confidence-
untouchable;
like he had something nobody else did.
were my eyes deceiving me?
he carried a Bible.
where did this come from
i wonder
a thug in my eye-
or maybe not.
educated black man?
looking good,
well groomed,
confident,
knowing where his life is headed;
deciphered those things
that were once hieroglyphics
and used them-
applied them to everyday life.
an exception to the stereotype,
exception- this type.
got way more than i bargained for-
thought i had a good deal.
F . E . A . R
false expectations apparing real.
i was fooled.
i was wrong.
i know better.
i know him now.
i know his intentions.
i see his motives.
i see his mother.
i see his brothers.
i like this guy.
i love this guy.
i AM this guy.

a thug in my eye