It is now after hours on a Friday night.
The day has closed for all people in sight.
A six year old boy exhausted from another long day,
Climbs into bed to dream of dirt and clay.
From sometime in the middle of dreaming...
Jarred out from a dead sleep by some screaming...
The boy's mother could be heard cursing a dare...
"The damn KKK is out there shooting their guns into the night air."
The mother told the little boy to stay in his bed,
As she looked out the windows for fire red.
The boy already knew that the danger of crazy white men
Could come crashing in the house to kill them with sin!
Welcome to coastal North Carolina in 1965 nightmare south...
Where Negros were objects to be punched in the mouth.
And when the night time came calling for a treat...
A Nigger in the darkness was as good as dead meat!
They would spit on a Negro in the light of the day,
And terrorize a Nigger at night when the guns came out to play.
And six year olds throughout the southern land
Are now 54 year olds with nightmare dreams of blood and sand!
I remember 1965 in the land of the mosquito and the humidity!
I remember the spit and the Nigger calling and the stupidity!
I never would have thought in 1965 that in 2013 I would...
Write a poem about the still living KKK marching in my hood!
There is no God!
These people should all be dead sod!
1965 evil alive and well in my 2013 American dream.
Why isn't the KKK dead, beaten to death with a 2X4 wooden beam?
RLJ
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