Inspired by Jesse Jackson’s oration to a crowd
of no more than a dozen, I go to shake his hand
but it stays put inside its tanned leather glove.
Men packing guns close in, and I waver.
Hope you run for president again, I say,
for in ’84 he campaigned to be America’s
first Black male president. He takes a chance,
grips my hand. The beef melt away.
.
Joan Byrne
South Bank, London, circa1986
.