She's been walking with a limp since before
Selma.. Jim Crow's ****** spit hangs
off of scorched buses.
The glutton oinkers hide behind badges.
Her beige babushka stained with fresh tar and tears.
  She notices a nearby soul case
Posed unto the asphalt as a stiff staple of humanity
Or lack thereof.
16th street stands veiled under a dark,
Heavy mantle.
A blackened institution consumed in conflagration at the hands of
A pointy white hood.
But Addie Mae Collins will live forever
With McNair, Robertson, and Wesley.
So take a look at my body conveniently
Cut up for you.
Reach inside and fish around for character or
Soul.
Kiss my organs and be honestly amused.
When enough is enough, and the coat comes back...

~ will you hate me then of the contra between us two? ~