Lonely with Huck
Huck Finn and I are brothers,
reacting when events seem wrong,
immoral, our emotions differing
when we’re lonely or alone.
When alone, as Huck is often
on the river, he feels fine,
far from the lying sivilised
I’m also best when hiking mountains,
away from cities, laws and lies.
Huck’s a child of ingrained racists
pursuing his runaway partner Jim.
Pressured on all sides, he’s lonely
when he and whites treat Jim as chattel.
As I am when a black man’s murdered:
Grown cold and empty, pained that pigment
brutally damns American men,
I damn whitewashed hypocrisy,
heartbroken and profoundly lonely.