#AmericanWriters
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,
I could take the Harlem night and wrap around you, Take the neon lights and make a cr… Take the Lenox Avenue busses, Taxis, subways,
I’m all alone in this world, she s… Ain’t got nobody to share my bed, Ain’t got nobody to hold my hand— The truth of the matter’s I ain’t got no man.
My name is Johnson— Madam Alberta K. The Madam stands for business. I’m smart that way. I had a
In the Quarter of the Negroes Where the doors are doors of paper Dust of dingy atoms Blows a scratchy sound. Amorphous jack—o’—Lanterns caper
Where is the Jim Crow section On this merry—go—round, Mister, cause I want to ride? Down South where I come from White and colored
To fling my arms wide In some place of the sun, To whirl and to dance Till the white day is done. Then rest at cool evening
I went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
When the shoe strings break On both your shoes And you’re in a hurry— That’s the blues. When you go to buy a candy bar
I dream a world where man No other man will scorn, Where love will bless the earth And peace its paths adorn I dream a world where all
My old mule, He’s gota grin on his face. He’s been a mule so long He’s forgotten about his race. I’m like that old mule —
2 and 2 are 4. 4 and 4 are 8. But what would happen If the last 4 was late? And how would it be
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done