Coretta, Coretta

By Rudolph Lewis

Our troubles did not end when

Our Good Boy was killed like

Little Red Riding Hood. We

wailed, angry with our Fathers—

Gun men, bullets, waters tapped

the fires down. A troop of pulpit

Faith Healers with a taste for fatback

& greens led us on a new journey

When the victory bell rang, we

were jubilant too soon. While we

celebrated a King holiday, Mr. Neo

worked out a new lie in the White

House. We weren’t alarmed; they

didn’t undo the trick in our March

in the Darkness. It was whiskey in

a shot glass in a blind body. Now

you are a fading photograph, First

Lady, in our scrapbook Pantheon of

Glory, dimmed by ingratitude. Holy

Roller & Country Preacher & other

hustling men creep across the street

Our good boys flee the church, Dear

Lady, warm feelings bring only grief

3 February 2006

Responses

Bravo, bravo...  Bless you for being and remaining faithful and true. – Charles

Ohhhh. Thank you Rudy. The world needs to read your poetry.  –Jeannette

These poems are so different in theme and tone, suggestive of the wide range of your verse.  A couple of them are lighter, more playful and fanciful.  I like them all a whole lot. -- Miriam

posted 5 February 2006