Wednesday, August 26, 2009

A Lunchtime Haiku in Hokkaido

"Americans aren't
The bastards you think they are
Or most, anyway."

"I'll take you for lunch,
And explain my beef with them."
"Thank you, I'd like that.

"But let me treat you
In thanks for the ride you gave.
I owe you one, friend."

He slowly explained
Over great seafood and rice
Why he hated them.

Biting racism
Of which he'd been a victim
Had soured his views.

In A New York pub
An ignorant waiter had
Used cruel racial slurs.

And, in stark contrast
Kind Canadian waiters
Made no such remarks.

"Don't let this waiter
speak for all his countrymen,"
I quietly urged.

"I guess you are right,"
He conceded with a sigh.
"Still, glad you're no Yank!"

[Please forgive the paraphrasing -- it's pretty rare that conversations happen naturally in haiku]

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