Ode to Malcolm X

They don't get it.
Why we are so enamored with you, nearly fifty years since they slayed you.
-Slayed your body, but not your soul.
They don't get why you're still alive;
Or why your shadow looms large over their puny images
- Chilling those cowards into even more histrionics as they try to be like you

They don't get you
They say that you were not original
- You were a mouthpiece; a mere follower
They try to minimize their injustices by calling you a hater..troubled...
A firebrand.
At last they say they don't get you.

They do get you --
No buck dancing
No drag racing
No restating the obvious to sound oblivious - for mental midgets
No coonin'
No cussing
No slacking --
Or joke cracking
You got down to business; the business of justice
-- Turning your foes into friends, and your detractors into fans

Still, like Cesars' Brutus and Jesus' Judas
Ploting, planning, undermining and conspiring...
They nipped at your heals and passed out daggers
They knew you would not sell out, so they sought to cancel you out

Now, like some some pitiful scavenger crows
They eat away at your legacy -- even as it grows; hoping to become you one day --
They lead a million astray.
Digital media magicians without contrition and more swagger than smarts;
More books then heart -- speaking in parts.
More access to the halls of power then to power itself
-- And no integrity to show for the money they hoe
They still don't get you.

I do.

-DP