Crackers Poem by David McLansky

Grandpa only had one arm,
He fell off the tractor behind the barn
This was the full extent of his charm
Shirtless he sat to my alarm.

He used to let me sip his beer,
He'd drive his pickup, let me steer;
He was rumored to be Klu Klux Klan;
He seemed to me a sober man;

A black man stood on our front lawn,
Twilight time was coming on;
I looked at him through the screen;
Grand Dad spoke to him serene;

He looked at us up on the porch;
His face was glowing from the torch
I rose to unlatch the screen door,
Grandma blocked me moving fore;

I was her daughter's Northern son,
Ten years old for summer come;
Racism I didn't understand;
They were talking man to man.

But in that squinting little shake
I realized what was then at stake;
A black man couldn't be her guest
The smiling man looked up oppressed

My lowly kin although white trash
Truck farmers for just pocket cash;
Looked down upon this smiling man
Was I a member of this clan?

When visiting at Lookout Mountain
I quenched my thirst at the 'colored' fountain;
How this upset my stern grandmother;
I looked at her and wasn't bothered.