they say that before the doors were opened
to the church before the home-going for brother Martin,
that there was concern
over the lump of clay left upon his face
and the mortician stated it was all he could do
since his jaw was blown off
but his words still persist
fifty years from an April afternoon and America
is still searching for its soul like old men
reliving past glories to distract from empty walls and cupboards
subsisting only on the junk food of jingoism, drinking oil like water
choking their arteries with the racism’s raw meat
but his words still persist
“tell the truth and shame the devil”
only works if the devils are willing to admit shame
and that day they decided to take brother Martin’s life to hide theirs
since he made broken pieces of the American dream
into an eternal mirror filling their palatial estates and condos
and his words still persist
fifty years later
and we remember brother Martin like all who gave their lives for us
as radical, reverent and renewal
his voice still reverberates louder than the lies
and soars higher than balconies and rooftops
and his words still persist
even as tyrants stroll in the capital
even as the cruel in suits and ties snatch lives and crumbs
they as the powers that be look on this day
and see the people swelling up to meet evil with love and anger
quoting his voice despite the death and fear dealt out
bullets in certain cases
can and have been
amplifiers
