Lumumba’s Grave

Lumumba was black
And he didn’t trust
The whores all powdered
With uranium dust.

Lumumba was black
And he didn’t believe
The lies thieves shook
Through their “freedom” sieve.

Lumumba was black.
His blood was red—
And for being a man
They killed him dead.

They buried Lumumba
In an unmarked grave.
But he needs no marker—
For air is his grave.

Sun is his grave,
Moon is, stars are,
Space is his grave.

My heart’s his grave,
And it’s marked there.
Tomorrow will mark
It everywhere.