Millard Lowe Poet Prose Poetry

When Deferred Dreams Become Blurred Visions: Apropos of Hughes's Proverbial Question

What happens when rotten strange fruit…
	Hanging from trees of auction block wood
	Become stinking pieces of black flesh…
	Dried blood putrefying in murderous streets…?

	When crystallized tears of remorse…Laden and
	Loaded with explosive grief…Flow down weary
	Faces wrinkled by time’s trials, tribulations and
	Treacherousness and neglect of freedom, justice
	And equality, all become like inconsequential
	Sunned raisins and festering sores…?

	When visions of deferred dreams become blurred 
	Realities,
	Fogged by the steam of volcanic anger…Pray tell…
	What happens?
	Pray tell…what happens?  And then what?—Please,
	Pray tell?!

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