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On the Assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
The blind faith of my mother
shoved her past three private deaths,
has added another degree
next to my name.
Now my hair and scruffy beard
gnaw at her peace, disturb her sleep;
she quotes the Bible to me
through a hollow phone,
names this early April act
a miracle.
She used to rub my head,
sing me Brahms.
First published as "April 4, 1968: For Dr. Martin Luther King and a Little Man" in The Mississippi Valley Review, Fall 1971
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