Discrimination.

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The consistent task of grooming keratin,
Remained absent of my want-
Thus my long, index, nail
Scrapped across a magazine cover
Traced the word
TIME-placed as a title…nonchalant,
But commanding in red.
Inches away, atop the same magazine,
My cellphone vibrated like a convulsing drug addict,
Adding pulse to the plastic ink.
Alarmed, I grabbed the device and answered.

“Hello?”
“Yes, is this A.j?”
“Speaking…”
“A.j. This is Travis from Great Window Cleaners.”
“Ohh, yes!”
“I am calling to follow up with our decision from the interview.”
“And?”
“And, we’re going with another person…another person who interviewed.”
“May I ask why, I thought we really hit it off. Laughing,
I mean we both read St. Thomas Aquinas.”

I turned, faced the window
Etched off shavings of frost from the glass
With my fingernail.

“We, umm, we just don’t think you would be a good fit.”
I paused, responded deadpanned.
“You read my poetry…didn’t you?”
“Wh-wh-what…makes you think that?”
“Well, you had an American flag decal on yr desk,
Crosses hung on the wall behind you
And by yr computer monitor was a copy of the Bible.”
I chuckled.
“I knew I was fucked the moment I walked in.”

Another pause ensued.
“Well…”
Travis replied.
“You’re not wrong.”

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