H e a r t S o n s & H e a r t D a u g h t e r s of A l l e n G i n s b e r g

N a p a l m H e a l t h S p a : R e p o r t 2 0 1 4 : A r c h i v e s E d i t i o n

DAVID COPE

For Martin King

who sang the flesh made word that bones may walk,

that none be turned away––we open the secret histories,

bring our varied carols together in dreams & signs,

each to each in turning gyre, on quiet stairs, alone on

the lost bridges of our desire where in vision we see

lights in procession leaving this shore by day & night

& dream the time to come. our word’s our bond:

no pistol, nightstick, bomb or threat, no pallid law nor

crooked courts may unmake brothers & sisters. the bells

never stop ringing, echoing over Birmingham, Selma,

Washington, Memphis, ringing in Brooklyn & Los Angeles,

ringing where babes’ eyes are rinsed in elders’ blood,

ringing where ancient hatreds boil yet across the globe,

ringing through the busy silence of every day, ringing in you

& me, sister & brother, ringing in our dreaming bones.