once,
wanted to
Swim
At a white
beach (in Alabama)
Nude.
vi
Peter always
thought
the only
way to
“enlighten”
southern towns
was to
introduce
himself
to
the county
sheriff
first thing.
Another thing
Peter wanted—
was to be
cremated
but we
couldn’t
find him
when he needed it.
But he was just a yid
seventeen.
vii
I
never liked
white folks
really
it
happened quite
suddenly
one
day
A pair of
amber
eyes
I
think
he
had.
viii
I don’t think
integration
entered
into it
officer
You see
there was
this little
Negro
girl
Standing here
alone
and her
mother
went into
that store
there
then—
there came by
this little boy
here
without his
mother
& eating
an
ice cream cone
—see there it is—
strawberry
Anyhow
and the little
girl was
hungry
and stronger
than
the little
boy—
Who is too
fat
really,
anyway.
ix
Someone said
to
me
that
if
the South
rises
again
it will do so
“from
the grave.”
Someone
else
said
if the South
rises
again
he would
“step on
it.”
Dick Gregory
said that
if the
South
rises
again
there is
a
secret
plan.
But I say—
if the
South
rises
again
It will not
do
so
in my presence.
x
“but I don’
really
give a fuck
Who
my daughter
marries—”
the lady
was
adorable—
it was in a
tavern
i remember
her daughter
sat there
beside her
tugging
at
her arm
sixteen—
very shy
and
very pim
pled.
xi
then there
was
the charming
half-wit
who told
the judge
re: indecent exposure
“but when I
step out
of the
tub
I look
Good—
just because
my skin
is black
don’t mean
it ain’t
pretty
you old bastard!)
what will we
finally do
with
prejudice
some people like
to take a walk
after a bath.
xii
“look, honey
said
the
blond
amply
boobed
babe
in the
green
g
string
“i like you
sure
i ain’t
prejudiced
but the
lord didn’t
give me
legs
like
these
because
he
wanted
to see’m
dangling
from a
poplar!”
“But they’re so
much
prettier
than mine.
Would you really mind?”
he asked
wanting her to dance.
xiii
I remember
seeing
a little girl,
dreaming—perhaps,
hit by
a
van truck
“That nigger was
in the way!” the
man
said
to
understanding cops.
But was she?
She was
just eight
her mother
said
and little
for
her age.
xiv
then there was
the
picture of
the
bleak-eyed
little black
girl
waving the
american
flag
holding it
gingerly
with
the very
tips
of her
fingers.
CHIC FREEDOM’S REFLECTION
(for Marilyn Pryce)
One day
Marilyn marched
beside me (demon-
stration)
and we ended up
at county farm
no phone
no bail
something about
“traffic vio-
lation”
which irrelevance
Marilyn dismissed
with a shrug
She
had just got
back
from
Paris France
In
the
Alabama
hell
she
smell-
ed
so
wonderful
like
spring
& love
&
freedom
She
wore a
SNCC pin
right between
her breasts
near her
heart
& with a chic
(on “jail?”)
accent
& nod of
condescent
to frumpy
work-house
hags
powdered her nose
tip-
toe
in a badge.
SOUTH:
THE NAME OF HOME
i
all that night
I prayed for eyes to see again
whose last sight
had been
a broken bottle
held negligently
in a racist
fist
God give us trees to plant
and hands and eyes to
love them.
ii
When I am here again
the years of ease between
fall away
The smell of one
magnolia
sends my heart
running through the swamps.
iii
the earth is red
here— the trees bent, weeping
what secrets will not
the ravished land
reveal
of its abuse?
iv
an old mistress
of my mother’s
gives me
bloomers for Christmas
ten sizes
too big
her intentions are
good my father
says
but typical—
neither the color
she knows
nor the
number.
HYMN
I well remember
A time when
“Amazing Grace” was
All the rage
In the South.
‘Happy’ black
wanted to
Swim
At a white
beach (in Alabama)
Nude.
vi
Peter always
thought
the only
way to
“enlighten”
southern towns
was to
introduce
himself
to
the county
sheriff
first thing.
Another thing
Peter wanted—
was to be
cremated
but we
couldn’t
find him
when he needed it.
But he was just a yid
seventeen.
vii
I
never liked
white folks
really
it
happened quite
suddenly
one
day
A pair of
amber
eyes
I
think
he
had.
viii
I don’t think
integration
entered
into it
officer
You see
there was
this little
Negro
girl
Standing here
alone
and her
mother
went into
that store
there
then—
there came by
this little boy
here
without his
mother
& eating
an
ice cream cone
—see there it is—
strawberry
Anyhow
and the little
girl was
hungry
and stronger
than
the little
boy—
Who is too
fat
really,
anyway.
ix
Someone said
to
me
that
if
the South
rises
again
it will do so
“from
the grave.”
Someone
else
said
if the South
rises
again
he would
“step on
it.”
Dick Gregory
said that
if the
South
rises
again
there is
a
secret
plan.
But I say—
if the
South
rises
again
It will not
do
so
in my presence.
x
“but I don’
really
give a fuck
Who
my daughter
marries—”
the lady
was
adorable—
it was in a
tavern
i remember
her daughter
sat there
beside her
tugging
at
her arm
sixteen—
very shy
and
very pim
pled.
xi
then there
was
the charming
half-wit
who told
the judge
re: indecent exposure
“but when I
step out
of the
tub
I look
Good—
just because
my skin
is black
don’t mean
it ain’t
pretty
you old bastard!)
what will we
finally do
with
prejudice
some people like
to take a walk
after a bath.
xii
“look, honey
said
the
blond
amply
boobed
babe
in the
green
g
string
“i like you
sure
i ain’t
prejudiced
but the
lord didn’t
give me
legs
like
these
because
he
wanted
to see’m
dangling
from a
poplar!”
“But they’re so
much
prettier
than mine.
Would you really mind?”
he asked
wanting her to dance.
xiii
I remember
seeing
a little girl,
dreaming—perhaps,
hit by
a
van truck
“That nigger was
in the way!” the
man
said
to
understanding cops.
But was she?
She was
just eight
her mother
said
and little
for
her age.
xiv
then there was
the
picture of
the
bleak-eyed
little black
girl
waving the
american
flag
holding it
gingerly
with
the very
tips
of her
fingers.
CHIC FREEDOM’S REFLECTION
(for Marilyn Pryce)
One day
Marilyn marched
beside me (demon-
stration)
and we ended up
at county farm
no phone
no bail
something about
“traffic vio-
lation”
which irrelevance
Marilyn dismissed
with a shrug
She
had just got
back
from
Paris France
In
the
Alabama
hell
she
smell-
ed
so
wonderful
like
spring
& love
&
freedom
She
wore a
SNCC pin
right between
her breasts
near her
heart
& with a chic
(on “jail?”)
accent
& nod of
condescent
to frumpy
work-house
hags
powdered her nose
tip-
toe
in a badge.
SOUTH:
THE NAME OF HOME
i
all that night
I prayed for eyes to see again
whose last sight
had been
a broken bottle
held negligently
in a racist
fist
God give us trees to plant
and hands and eyes to
love them.
ii
When I am here again
the years of ease between
fall away
The smell of one
magnolia
sends my heart
running through the swamps.
iii
the earth is red
here— the trees bent, weeping
what secrets will not
the ravished land
reveal
of its abuse?
iv
an old mistress
of my mother’s
gives me
bloomers for Christmas
ten sizes
too big
her intentions are
good my father
says
but typical—
neither the color
she knows
nor the
number.
HYMN
I well remember
A time when
“Amazing Grace” was
All the rage
In the South.
‘Happy’ black
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