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PoemsEssayJennifer Bishop
David ChristieDenis Kucharski |
For MalcolmI am your younger, lighter brother.You exited in a bloody burst of gunfired four days after I Endured my own bloody ordeal called birth.You resound in my students, Young, displaced Africans.You are their shining prince; A fortress of a Black Man. But were you a man like I am a man? Were you ever unsure? Confused? Did you ever speed recklessly down? Riverside Drive in the summer with the windows closed so tight no one heard you screaming? Did you cling to Sister Betty, a climber grasping a jutting rock on a barren mountain face? Were you a man like a I am a man? You drove truth daggers into weary, Black souls. You proclaimed what silently festered within. You diagnosed the sickness. You grouped for a cure, then You left us like the cheetah bounding into the forest. It is your fierce manhood we crave. It is your proud manhood we miss. It is your profound manhood we must have. You are a shining prince; A fortress of a Man. Will we be men like you when you were just a man? |
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