Tristan Robert Lange

The Right

i grew up in a town that was white,

with white picket fences—what a sight—

and white lights to keep it bright at night.

we mowed our white lawns with delight,

on our large white mowers, sitting tight.

got it for a white price, now—don’t be trite—

or i will drive down white avenue alight,

all gassed up with rage—a white fright—

after getting my rifle, big and white,

I’ll show them all that white might

makes right because i got a white’s right.

first, though, i’ll turn on a white nightlight,

for my white kids in their white beds tonight.

First published on tristanrobertlange.com, June 28, 2026.

Tittu