Assassinated Congolese Prime Minister Patrice Lumumba’s Resurrection

Some Congolese believe he’ll return one day,

a couple teeth missing, perhaps, but otherwise

intact,

drafty from the bullet holes.

Other than that,

alright.

And he will.

And he has, complete

with Mephistophelean beard,

vendor T-shirts so befitting

the Father of His Country,

but they wanted him dead and,

indeed,

killed him once.

He is no Christ,

but who’s to say?

Congo in the glory

of its uprooting,

its strip-mined soul,

its blood all copper,

and diamond eyes.

His great-grandfather slew Arabs at Nyangwe,

oversaw their gleaming skulls.

He killed a lion with a spear

near Lake Kisale.

With pinched fingers, he lowered

the tender heart-strips down.