#AmericanWriters
It was a long time ago. I have almost forgotten my dream. But it was there then, In front of me, Bright like a sun—
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
Clean the spittoons, boy. Detroit, Chicago, Atlantic City, Palm Beach.
How still, How strangely still The water is today, It is not good For water
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
Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you— Then, it will be true. I wonder if it’s that simple?
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 play it cool I dig all jive. That's the reason I stay alive. My motto
Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow… I heard a Negro play. Down on Lenox Avenue the other ni… By the pale dull pallor of an old…
You say I O.K.ed LONG DISTANCE? O.K.ed it when? My goodness, Central That was then!
He glides so swiftly Back into the grass— Gives me the courtesy of road To let me pass, That I am half ashamed
Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria:
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know