White people all over. White people with pearly teeth wrapped in fog cover to
blend in with their white sky. White people eating pasta pasty mashed potato
cauliflower puree creamed crumpity milkfat mayonnaise. There’s a joke that
goes — what color is this? Point to something white. Somebody says “white”.
What color is that? Point to something white. Keep going until the person gets
tired. Then ask them what cows drink. They’ll say milk. Cows drink water. It’s
not that funny. White people eating vanilla ice cream after vanilla intercourse
on bleached linens painted with daisies and lilies and lined with cocaine from
what they called the Ivory Coast a long time ago with eyes gleaming and
colourless lotioning pale arms and legs wrapped in a white wet dream of
plaster-dried salt-licked moon lard filled golf balls covered in toothpaste. They
are buttoning up to the tippity-top of pressed collars printing out receipts that
say calcium and airplane and sugar. They are pouring laundry detergent in
clouds over nurses and chefs and space shuttles and wedding dresses
naming everything Whitehall and White Horse and Whitechapel and White
Tower. They are erasing chalk from blackboards after telling everybody how
history is supposed to go but feeling really bad about it but they still don’t
know what to do about the Problem of Multiculturalism or Immigration. They
have discovered a whole new continent of euphemisms. They are sewing
stitches on white flags. They are making TV shows about diversity and are
very sorry about the war. They are reading poems about black bodies to a
room full of people sipping white wine while whitewashing white noise with
witty rhetorical whittlings. It’s almost as if they didn’t do it. It’s almost as if they
aren’t even there. But still with white knuckles in a white heat they stalwartly
steer FedEx trucks and robot drones full of dental floss mushrooms
spearmint Tic Tacs soy milk aspirin shoelaces and cigarettes filling up White
Houses with picket fences and propane tanks and back up lights and cotton
balls and dress shirts and Apple products and white chocolate and sand from
places that still don’t belong to them singing I’ve got a blank space baby while
having fun fun fun on the white beaches of their imaginations