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FREEDOMWAYS THIRD QUARTER 1966

with its pink shade,
once more a ticket,
once more a title
once more a sale.

The worth of the lamp rises...
each time...each sale...
new buyers, the same song...
pay, pay, pay.
A grudge swells in the black man's heart
like a mushroom in a dark cellar-
storms ripen in his soul
like in the depths of the ocean,
untamed, unformed...rising...
a raging flood flows,
destroys the Innocent Lamp
by now a thousand dollars worth.
This lamp is destined to become
the symbol of shame,
the innocently guilty candle-wick
dipped into flames of rage and pain.

Yes, it happened here
Here in Watts, Los Angeles,
The Black Ghetto in the sun-drenched State.
Gave way.
Rage, begot by poverty
spilled over. The bell tolled its despair
shame and humiliation
and fury burned...burned...burned.

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