Luther King


I had a dream of your maiden voyage

you arrive from the hull of your mother in January,

the first thing to touch you was water blessed by your Father

he washed away your wine and drank the smell of his new world in.


I had a dream Master King that you poured the slave ship sea dry

you rinsed our skins together, we were bone and sinew, you said –

“masts are crosses blown by Jesus from the heavens

and what is sea but his eyes for us to rest in”?


I had a dream of a bullet smashing your vertebrae into snowflakes –

entering through your cheek like a bloody flare from sun.

It is all quiet in your blood and your eyes capsize white.

They are using your words as a compass for man

enslaved in black and white coats, their red sea.

One Response to “Luther King”

  1. A fitting epitaph for a fine leader, and consummate orator.

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