George Jackson, do you know of him? Bob Dylan sang of his death down in the prison yard. We pretend, turning tassels from left to right, understanding of American history. Damn shame, it ain’t right, this misunderstanding. Hell, give Dylan a listen, he’ll teach the white folk about living and dying. Malcolm, Martin, bombing in Birmingham, do we not see sorrow in our lily white eyes? You want to know my shame? One day a school boy said to me, hey, your lips seem kinda thick. You got black in your blood? His teasing got me, I cried. I cried?! Damn, not today! I may still live in the heartland, but my heart is for Every Person who has had to deal with oppression of some ugly white man who thinks he is more human because of the color of his skin. 2012 and some fool still waves the confederate flag from the red cab of his guzzling four wheel drive. Some say, equality is here. I’d say, drink a beer, past the Mason Dixon with the townies. George Jackson, know of him?
when Dylan sang the blues
Posted by angela on 2012/05/18