White Hands Shake

steve wright
1 min readAug 13, 2022

I wish I could write the 1000 words that a picture fails to describe
I wish I could leave the space between my ears
I wish I could sit on the hill,
under the cork tree,
smelling flowers with Ferdinand
I wish those days could come back once more
I wish I was taller. I wish I was a baller.
I wish I was riding Rocinante
I wish I could hear Horton’s Who

I wish the real that I keep it wasn’t my supremacy
I wish I wasn’t racist
I wish I wasn’t whiteness
I wish I knew what to do
Outstretched hand, trepidating
Metaphor for all of it
I wish inclusion wasn’t transitive
Demanding an object
White grammar

I wish I was included
I want to belong
I don’t want to be woke
But I love Bar-B-Que
I don’t want whiteness
But I want to keep what I have
Sometimes I’m fragile
Sometimes I’m guilty
When I cry, my tears are white like me
Often I’m awkward, aspirational, white hands shaking



steve wright

The protocols of neighborliness are in contestation with the protocols of purity and the most important question we can ask ourselves is “Who is my neighbor?”