The daily Nebraskan. ([Lincoln, Neb.) 1901-current, April 16, 1992, Page 7, Image 7

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    D.K. Marshall, a UNL senior, is from Beatrice.
Youth
No one cried aiid no one screamed last night
At the party
People laughed and drank and smoked and toked
To hide from the cold, black wind outside
Because Janey doesn’t have a gun
When her daddy rapes her
Then beats her bloody
And hiding’s all she can do
Toke and die.
I met a man who talked to me last night
At the party
His speech got witty as he drank more beer
And no one said a word of truth
Through hoots of racaus laughter
I was glad I didn’t wear my golden dress
Because Billy didn’t have a shield
When his mommy draws a knife
And hiding’s all he can do
Toke and die.
I saw a child who should have been a woman
At the party
The bearded man explained it all to me
No one there wants to grow up,
He said, No one there wants to live too long
Because no one outside cares
And if toking’s all you’ve got to hide behind
Then by all means,
Toke and die. „ 1
'wTc's W.CTs
TAKE A STUDY BREAK!
$2.80 Pitchers
$1.15 Well Drinks N* J
W. C. 'S Downtown M7 /
1228 ’P1 Street
Lwc ,?S^ ^Zoupon^ot Good With Any Other Offer W.C.1S
" —l
and Style
$10 Off
■pz:
10-20 min. tans
20-20 min. tans
i—
in the Atrium -
J__Skywalk Level_
1200 "N"
Walter Gholson III is a former Daily Nebraskan columnist.
Assassinated Dream
“And Martin Luther King died for his dream of equality for all people”
said the old preacher who needed to have pulled back from the
chicken dinner table years ago.
He kept on talking about the fallen drum major for the marching band
of peace. Amen, said the good deacon and owner of the local funeral
parlor and liquor store, he died the good death.
And I sat still in the little store front church on the back street of
my urban hell. I didn’t say a thing cause I was stuck in this pew
with my mother who does not want to understand why I don’t
understand why he said King died.
I kept my cool cause I was in the house of faith, around people
too afraid to say assassinate means that he was murdered, killed,
snuffed out, iced, shot dead, crucified, back in 1964.
I sat patUng my feet to the music of the old timed religion while
right Reverend Pie-In-The Sky doomed us to repeat again mistakes
we’ve already made.
But I had to leave when my mother got the hallowed spirit of under
estimaUon and forgave America for its systematic elimination of
another King.
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