By David Stallings © 2010
When my mother and new stepfather
moved from Nashville to a southern Alaska town,
I spent fifth grade trying to make new friends, rid myself
of Southern drawl, and avoid
getting beat up. And so,
to help
my classmates decide
which candy bar to eat first,
I suggest, Eeny, meeny miney moe,
catch a nigger by the toe…
What’s that?
No one has heard [...]
By David Stallings © 2008
One day Louis’ older brother
drops by the Indian Grill,
and we take a break from bussing dishes.
Carlos wears a wavy D.A.,
greets us with a scarred hand.
Louis tells me his brother
wanted to marry, needed a job.
No one would hire him
because of the tattoo
between his left thumb and forefinger.
So Carlos drove north of town,
up into Austin Bluffs, used [...]
By David Stallings © 2007
You needed to be 18
to get into the Rainbow Ballroom,
but they let Norm and me in anyway.
Things were different
in this tough Colorado steel town.
We sat near the stage, ordered three-two beer—
the only two white faces
among many tables of black ones.
Contraband liquor flowed,
empty bottles rolled on the floor.
When the band eased into Please, Please, Please,
we were [...]