Black boys and white boys didn’t get along
those fraught first days of forced integration.

There were fights on the hour every hour
when halls were crammed and pressure-loaded,

bumping into one another led to standing toe-to-toe, 
chests out, taunts exchanged, fighter’s pose, 

spittle on a cheek, forbidden name, fist thrown,
the surging crowd rolling in close 

to urge the boy of shared complexion on. 
The fights, spirited, if not technically sound,

would only end when the principal
or basketball coach stepped in

and half-marched, half-hauled the boys 
off to the office and on to detention.

The white boys by and large held their own,
the black boys bowed to no one, 

the chants telling each boy to kill the other,
still ring in our ears all these years later.