Our Walt Whitman
Our Walt Whitman
Our Walt Whitman is this black man
Standing in the middle of Mission
In the blare of horns
In a long black coat despite the heat
With lice in his hair
And a cut in his leg he has let fester
Patiently explaining to the people
Watching him from the bus
That love is not original with us
But precedes us
Indeed is the catalyst
That brought us into being
Therefor we cannot destroy love
Only God can destroy it
But won’t because
God is love