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60s Witness

 


                    60s Witness


A 10 year-old boy crying at the funeral

    of his older brother,

 A warm summer afternoon, while my mother irons. I 

                    listen to a King speak and try to tell anyone who

will listen that this is history-making,

Fire hoses, snarling dogs, a Sheriff named Bull.

College students are next.  

We're told to carry plastic bags filled with water in our your pockets when the governor

comes to campus, this will help when the tear gas flies,

CIA agents are rumored to be attending our classes, watch what you say, 

                    or not.

At a party in 1969, all they played was Creedence...one after another.

Today we marched inside a draft board,  the clerks scared and outraged by our audacity to end war, tomorrow we marched in D.C. Rainy night, candles flickering over the Potomac, carrying one of the 32,000 names,



Raise your voice in front of the White House, deposit your "name" in the coffins placed  on  the Capital steps.

A make-shift city filled with musicians and freedom all in a farmer's field.  Dance in the rain.

BBQ place in Third ward.  Combo plate, soul bowl, red soda water.

Juke box had only BB King, Bobby Bland, and Little Milton-3 plays for a quarter.


Did they really land on the moon?  

Death notice, he was only 20.  I still see his Louie-Lou eye smile.

Part of the solution or part of the problem?

Every day I have the Blues,

When you see me crying, it's you

I hate to lose.





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