#AmericanWriters 1931 October Originally Poetry appeared in issue magazine of the
I went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
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
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
How still, How strangely still The water is today, It is not good For water
Clean the spittoons, boy. Detroit, Chicago, Atlantic City, Palm Beach.
How quiet It is in this sick room Where on the bed A silent woman lies between two lo… Life and Death,
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.
I work all day, Said Simple John, Myself a house to buy. I work all day, Said Simple John,
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…
He glides so swiftly Back into the grass— Gives me the courtesy of road To let me pass, That I am half ashamed
'Me an’ ma baby’s Got two mo’ ways, Two mo’ ways to do de Charleston!… Da, da, Da, da, da!
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
Democracy will not come Today, this year Nor ever Through compromise and fear. I have as much right
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,