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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