.....................Martin Luther King, Jr. : The Truth Poem by elysabeth faslund

The singing is in the losing.
Were you there then?
Bell-bottoms, leather,
the march of vindication....

the black behemoth
rises into rain clouds,
this dark, dismal mourn....
swishing its prehensile tale

of shabby, tattered fur,
blinking righteous ribbons
of heaven-down drops,
thinking no more of hell

than one bullet.

'And what rough beast,
its hour come round at last,
slouches toward....' Atlanta....
'to be born....'

Should the rose glasses fall
into truthful dreams,
dream of political leaders
who never said to lackeys,

'Say bro', delight my night
with a ho,
and damn what history
says for the ages.'