never make giants small

i don’t want to see your autopsy table
don’t turn giants into cadavers
there is none of the spirit there
i hear no words that speak of nobility
i see a man reduced to an exit wound
and you build a picture around this
that seeks to destroy the beauty

i remember the hurt when i saw kurt
and knew the policeman somehow profited
from that invasion of privacy
for what was the man to him
but part of a procedure

we have constructed a mythical architecture
around a theft summed up with “back and to the left”
assassination tries to rob us of more than the man malcom x
it is the thing of him that was larger than a man
that had a limitless span
there was nothing esoteric about martin’s dream
why does medgar evers ever need bob to speak for him?

respect should be built
before bodies topple
and if bodies fall
we carry them high
and we avert our gaze
we do not turn the angels
into broken stone statues
we do not force them into ugly jigsaws
peace not pieces of something greedy and vile
how can you look at these things and smile?

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