weary

my niggas is weary.
no days off.
he old enough to be my grandfather, bagging my groceries at the Jewel,
knowing got damn well the Electoral College don’t make no sense.
he looks me dead in my face and shouts me a lesson through rotten teeth,
“young man, when we was coming up, back in the day it was one man, one vote.”
i start to correct his historical memory.
i am just about to tell him that the Electoral College has been around since the Constitution was written.
i stop myself.
i know got damn well not to talk back to ELDERS.
i feel proud of myself for being so humble.
but deep in my know-it-all-of-a-brain, 
i snicker, 
cuz i know he’s wrong.
and it’s not til i’ve swiped my card and he’s already put my blackberries and feta cheese in the bag,
that i REALIZE
that he is older than 400 years.
and when he was coming up,
rising up
from the cosmic ether
way back then it was
one man, one vote
ALL FOR ONE
ONE FOR ALL…