old men
we thank you for
your service to hypocrisy;
where you have failed,
we shall succeed
and where we fumble,
our children will prevail

old men
hold onto your barbiturates
for there sits a black king
in the white castle
yet we breathe,
as always –
miracle of nature, one wonders

grant us our right
to bury with you
your misguided notion
of the measure of a man –
we teach the lessons
we learn,
and the Sun is our witness

we will crack the pot
and break the ladle
with which you have portioned out
basic human rights,
bit by bit and little by little –
crumbs of indignity
from bowls of patronage

I have begun
and I have ended
I have preceded
and superseded
Taken
and given back
Had
and been had

My success
is measured
Not in currency
or property
But the manner
in which
They were acquired