The Line-Up

The Line-Up

by Kelp

“Yes, well, line them up and
I’ll take a look at them, but –
they all look the same to me.”

From behind the soundproof one-way glass
we watched the six men file in —
black, brown, white, yellow, red and pink —

turn around and face towards us,
their backs to the wall,
waiting for the picture, without a smile.

And moving her gaze from one to the other
and back again, she shook her head
and narrowed her eyes.  “I don’t know.

I really don’t know.  It could be any one
of them, or it could be none.
Really, they all look the same to me.”

“What do you mean they look the same?”
I whispered loudly at the side of her face.
“They don’t look the same at all.”

“I’m not talking about skin color,”  she said.
“I’m not talking about skin color,” I said,
“I’m talking about the differences – “

She rolled her eyes, blew out a sigh,
breathed in again through her nose, and then
was about to say something, but stopped.

“I’m talking about the differences
between people,” I said. “No one’s the same
as any one else. You don’t see that, do you?”

She closed her eyes, and tried
to think of something pleasant,
but was unsuccessful. 

She squinted back at the six men
who were standing against the wall,
“Well, three got fur and three don’t.”

“Three got fur and three don’t?
You think they’re furry animals,
Is that what you think?” I said.

“Now why d’you ask me a question like that?”
she smiled.  “What’s that got to do
with the price of rice in China?”

And now it seemed like the six young men
were looking back at the glass at us.
Even though it was one-way glass,

they may have imagined her silver hair,
her downturned lip, her squinting eye.
And wondered who’s the criminal, and what’s the crime.