As your daily bread

Informal test of speed
current of water

How many meanings
could have your lips
moving the word “Race”
between your teeth?

Don’t chew the tongue!
the word is simple:
white, blu, black:

in the waves of skins
toward an international fear:
to be and not to live.

But feel your breath free
to breed bread
in a contemporary field

And shake their hands
revenge your smile:
race is the mood’s stream
equal, in all the side.


poem published for the poetry contest about Race
from an idea of Nicholas Kristof – The New York Times