Martin Luther King’s dream of inclusion in the grand monochrome
potluck supper of liberty will not be startled awake by the caterwaul
of social scientists,* who deem theory to be reality, or vice versa,
and who dunk their poems in polemic acid,
and who fear comity can mean only the loss
of their coveted sinecures of contention.
*Science, absent empirical truth, is creative writing.