#AmericanWriters
I look at the world From awakening eyes in a black fac… And this is what I see: This fenced—off narrow space Assigned to me.
Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria:
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
I went down to the river, I set down on the bank. I tried to think but couldn’t, So I jumped in and sank. I came up once and hollered!
Here I sit With my shoes mismated. Lawdy—mercy! I’s frustrated!
It would be nice In any case, To someday meet you Face to face Walking down
Listen! Dear dream of utter aliveness— Touching my body of utter death— Tell me, O quickly! dream of aliv… The flaming source of your bright…
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 old junk man Death Comes to gather up our bodies And toss them into the sack of obl… I wonder if he will find The corpse of a white multi—millio…
That Justice is a blind goddess Is a thing to which we black are w… Her bandage hides two festering so… That once perhaps were eyes.
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
You and your whole race. Look down upon the town in which y… And be ashamed. Look down upon white folks And upon yourselves
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
How still, How strangely still The water is today, It is not good For water
I woke up this mornin’ ’Bout half-past three. All the womens in town Was gathered round me. Sweet gals was a-moanin’,