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A BLACK POET LEAPS TO HIS DEATH -for mbembe milton smith was it a blast to the balls dear brother with the wind ringing in the ear that great rush against the air that great push into the universe you are not now alone mbembe of the innocent eyes sadder than a mondays rain it is i who hear your crush of bone your splatter of brain your tear of flesh on the cold chicago stone and my october cry when the yellow moon is ringed with blood of children dead in the lebanese mud is as sharp as a kc switchblade your pain is a slash across my throat i feel a chill can the poet belie the poem old revolutionaries never die it is said they just be born again (check chuck colson and his panther from folsom) but you are dead mbembe poetman in the home of the brave the brown leaves whister across you grave 112 but it must have been a rush a great gasp of breath the awesome leap to your death o poet of the bloo<:l and bone of the short song and serious belief i sing you release 113 October 1981 ...

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