"Please, Please, Please" on the charts permits Four canary yellow sequined suits And a hulking Coupe de Ville—bought on credit— For the Alabama-Georgia roadhouse circuit. Half last night they drove from Athens, taking turns At the wheel. The radio hissed National Guards In Little Rock, static filling Jackie Wilson's "Lonely Teardrops." Parked near Macon in a soybean field, They sleep with heads in towels to protect Their kingly pompadours, and as the predawn Mist burns off, they wake to knocks against The windshield. A cruiser with its siren on Dyes the fog bright red. Don't you niggers know your place? A billy club, a face, the windshield breaks.
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