The Burning

Black and white, yes I look at an image, it is -

Black. Black. It was a bloody, bloody black

No. He was a burning bloody burning black man.

A mass of black flesh, caught in the centre

of the photograph, framed with a border

around him stood white, yes bloody white

border surrounding, him - he was the centre

of the white, of the white's burning fury.

Smoke rose and hid the faces of the white cells

as they stood, intense around the black germ

White antibodies, anti thought - on parade

They displace, any trace of fear in their union

against the black, in the burning thirties

sixty years, here sit I - white, not Black