#AmericanWriters
How quiet It is in this sick room Where on the bed A silent woman lies between two lo… Life and Death,
I went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
God in His infinite wisdom Did not make me very wise— So when my actions are stupid They hardly take God by surprise
I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh,
'Me an’ ma baby’s Got two mo’ ways, Two mo’ ways to do de Charleston!… Da, da, Da, da, da!
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
I woke up this mornin’ ’Bout half-past three. All the womens in town Was gathered round me. Sweet gals was a-moanin’,
It’s such a Bore Being always Poor.
Only dumb guys fight. If I wasn’t dumb I wouldn’t be fightin’. I could make six dollars a day On the docks
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—
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
Well, son, I’ll tell you: Life for me ain’t been no crystal… It’s had tacks in it, And splinters, And boards torn up,
By what sends the white kids I ain’t sent: I know I can’t be President.
When a man starts out with nothing… When a man starts out with his han… Empty, but clean, When a man starts to build a world… He starts first with himself
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