When Josh visited me at college,
I noticed that lots of girls flocked to him.
Now, I know that my old friend was charming, but he wasn’t that charming.
What was going on?
It took a couple of minutes
for my ra(cism)dar to kick in
and I realized “his color sets him apart.
They’re not used to his kind around here.”

I don’t know for sure
where the population of the school was from.
Maybe city folk all, they were familiar with minorities,
so the likes of Josh was no big thing,
but it didn’t seem that way.
It seemed he was a bigger hit
than the couple sentences he’d uttered would suggest.
Josh took it all in stride.
He’d been to prep school in Massachusetts,
so had probably seen this kind of thing before.

When we got a minute alone, I asked him what he thought.
“Jon,” he said, “these hippie folk are dorks like us.
They’re impressed by tree limbs. You’re too much in your own head, man.”
I was still sure it was about prejudice.
Josh shook his head. “You do you, my guy.”

My friend swore to me he did not get laid several times
during his weekend at my school.
I chose to believe him.