From the Poetic Asides blog:
For today’s prompt, take the phrase “My (blank), the (blank),” replace the blanks with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles include: “My Dentist, the Torture Expert,” “My Lunch, the Thing I Got Out of the Vending Machine,” “My Father, the Comedian,” or “My Life, the Punchline.”
Myself, the Racist
This morning as I opened the garage
I noticed a young black man walk past.
Like an idiot I worried that he’d run inside
as I’m pulling out before the door closed.
My racism is deeply embedded
like the head of a tick
whose obvious bloated body has been plucked
but the teeth remain gnawing under the skin.
From the privilege of growing up white,
all I can do now is raise my hand,
notice the prejudices as they arise
and try not to act upon them.