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1 A.M. AFTER HEARING Butch Hancock at the Cactus Cafe
Walking back to my place, one hour of walk no taxis my feet aching
many Austin rangers cars roaming around the city
and a few minutes walk before me a black american
and a police car stops near him
speaking words I couldn't hear
then I walked all the way and the car waited for me
and the young policeman said Good Evening sir,
I answered politely, it seems people don’t walk in this city
I
walk in every city, I walk everywhere
'Is everything OK, Sir?'
Yes, thanks
Then he spoke to me as a brother to a brother
'You should stay away from that man, he's dangerous..."
I said thanks
maybe he was right
I don't know but all the way I had the feeling that something was wrong
Would he have said the same if he was white
Why didn't he think I was dangerous, he didn't ask for an I.D.
and I was the stranger in his country
How many blacks have become criminals
because cops warned the others about them
I would have never understood that
if I didn’t learn what it was being a Moroccan in Israel
and how the police and the authorities, the educational system
have done the great job of converting so many Moroccans
into junkies, thieves and whores,
somehow here I am the one people should be afraid off
but in Austin, Texas I was the white guy, I looked decent
I still have to figure out what side is better, or, better,
which side is worse.