i can tell we are different

round green eyes look out over Memorial Day picnics that could feed entire villiages in Mexico

flat green lawns, manicured by small brown men greet my feet

the large pink feet that are newly hewned soft by a brand new American who is smaller than my preteen son her hands already strong as a man.

crisp green money falls from grace from the height of my shoulders that support an oily empire of greed

old rich white men cluck like chickens behind my sinful back, unmarried, slut...I can tell their wives peck them into the corner of the barnyard.

They watch my pink throat and chest while i talk to them, ignoring my green eyes that show them how we are all the same much to my disgust.