By Ben Allen
Privilege and the Wall
After a long day at school, after dropping the ball on a Chicano Lit essay,
I watched the Frampton-Santa Cruz weigh in, watched those tiny men threateningly flex their muscles,
and I decided to go for a run.
I ran down Utah, past the boxing gym that was under construction and being repainted from white
to something less gaudy, and I watched the fighters skipping rope through the window in the wall,
before I continued on my end of day run, my privilege.