Muhammad Ali Gives a Dramatic Reading of His Poem on the Attica Prison Uprising

In July of 1972, box­er Muham­mad Ali trav­eled to Dublin to fight Alvin ‘Blue’ Lewis, an ex-con from Detroit. In the days lead­ing up to the bout, he amused him­self by bust­ing on Fight of the Cen­tu­ry vic­tor Smokin’ Joe Fra­zier from afar, refer­ring to him on live tele­vi­sion as a “tramp” and a “slave” who lived on a “chick­en plan­ta­tion.”

It was a career defin­ing encounter for inter­view­er Cathal O’Shan­non, who praised Ali’s deft­ness in that area and not­ed that the champ said things “he would not have been able to say in Amer­i­ca.”

It’s doubt­ful that O’Shannon was refer­ring to the name call­ing, part of Ali’s cam­paign to draw Fra­zier back into the ring. (The champ got his wish less than two years lat­er, when he defeat­ed Fra­zier at Madi­son Square Gar­den in the sec­ond of their three fights.)

What’s more like­ly is that O’Shannon was allud­ing to the orig­i­nal poem Ali recites from mem­o­ry, one minute into clip above, after ori­ent­ing Irish view­ers to the pre­vi­ous fall’s Atti­ca Prison upris­ing, still the dead­liest in U.S. his­to­ry.

Ali imag­ines him­self in the shoes of a black pris­on­er, respond­ing to the white war­den issu­ing a final ulti­ma­tum. His reply, which could be tak­en as a call to arms , but which Ali touch­ing­ly calls a “poet­ic poem,” takes the form of a dozen ter­cets:

Bet­ter far from all I see

To die fight­ing to be free

What more fit­ting end could be?

Bet­ter sure­ly than in some bed

Where in bro­ken health I’m led

Lin­ger­ing until I’m dead

Bet­ter than with prayers and pleas

Or in the clutch of some dis­ease

Wast­ing slow­ly  by degrees

Bet­ter than of heart attack 

Or some dose of drug I lack 

Let me die by being Black 

Bet­ter far that I should go 

Stand­ing here against the foe 

Is the sweet­er death to know 

Bet­ter than the bloody stain 

On some high­way where I’m lain 

Torn by fly­ing glass and pane 

Bet­ter call­ing death to come

Than to die anoth­er dumb

Mut­ed vic­tim in the slum

Bet­ter than of this prison rot

If there’s any choice I’ve got

Kill me here on the spot

Bet­ter far my fight to wage

Now while my blood boils with rage

Lest it cool with ancient age

Bet­ter vow­ing for us to die

Than to Uncle Tom and try

Mak­ing peace just to live a lie

Bet­ter now that I say my sooth

I’m gonna die demand­ing truth

While I’m still akin to youth

Bet­ter now than lat­er on

Now that fear of death is gone

Nev­er mind anoth­er dawn.

The poem draws to a close with an inex­pert but heart­felt sound effect.

The poet — whose mater­nal great-grand­fa­ther was born in Coun­ty Clare — went on to knock out his oppo­nent in the 11th round.

The trail­er for the doc­u­men­tary, When Ali Came to Ire­land, fea­tur­ing Cathal O’Shan­non, is below.

More poet­ry read­ings can be found in our col­lec­tion of Free Audio Books.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Muham­mad Ali Plans to Fight on Mars in Lost 1966 Inter­view

Mal­colm X, Debat­ing at Oxford, Quotes Shakespeare’s Ham­let (1964)

Mail­er on the Ali-Fore­man Clas­sic

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, home­school­er, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday