A picture in a book,
a lynching.
The bland faces of men who watch
a Christ go up in flames, smiling,
as if he were a hooked
fish, a felled antelope, some
wild thing tied to boards and burned.
His charred body
gives off light--a halo
burns out of him.
His face is scorched featureless;
the hair matted to the scalp like feathers.
One man stands with his hand on his hip,
another with his arm
slung over the shoulder of a friend,
as if this moment were large enough
to hold affection.

Auteur: Toi Derricotte

A picture in a book, <br />a lynching. <br />The bland faces of men who watch<br />a Christ go up in flames, smiling,<br />as if he were a hooked<br />fish, a felled antelope, some <br />wild thing tied to boards and burned.<br />His charred body<br />gives off light--a halo<br />burns out of him. <br />His face is scorched featureless; <br />the hair matted to the scalp like feathers. <br />One man stands with his hand on his hip,<br />another with his arm<br />slung over the shoulder of a friend,<br />as if this moment were large enough<br />to hold affection. - Toi Derricotte


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