The Mixing Pot

One is a Starbucks shop with a Chai latte. Seeping with sugar, fake spices, hatred

The demons that fill the contents of their cup 

While they repost the supposed aesthetics of their drink

One, an Indian woman continues her daily routine,

Funneling cardamom, ginger, and cloves, among other spices, into a pot.

Sizzle the sound makes as the spice crashes, a process no chain shop can imagine to see.

The making of Chai, an ancient tradition yet so integrated into her life. 

But we see Two worlds, where the same set of spices and flavors are enjoyed.

Yet when they see someone ethnic consuming it, they fear

For how scary it is. The sight of buttery naan and freshly fried chicken 65

But how trendy when you post it on your socials 

Dare one bring a word about cultural appropriation or hypocrisy

Then they said words such as “at least it does not smell as bad” or

They claim “One of the only good things your kind makes”


For centuries, exploitation, murder, and looting 

For the spices and flavors, they detest

For now, it is selective demonization, gaslighting, and hostility.


They claim America is a melting pot

A social culture so welcoming and beloving of all those who come.

Yet I did not know this pot had a recipe, selectively choosing what to add