#AmericanWriters
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria:
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
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
And that is what poetry may do, wrap up your dreams, protect and preserve and hold them until maybe they come true. Columbus dreamed of finding a new world, he found it. Edison dreamed ...
I sat there singing her Songs in the dark. She said; 'I do not understand The words’.
In places like Selma, Alabama, Kids say, In places like Chicago and New York...
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
The ivory gods, And the ebony gods, And the gods of diamond and jade, Sit silently on their temple shelv… While the people
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.
The gold moth did not love him So, gorgeous, she flew away. But the gray moth circled the flam… Until the break of day. And then, with wings like a dead d…
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
I work all day, Said Simple John, Myself a house to buy. I work all day, Said Simple John,
He glides so swiftly Back into the grass— Gives me the courtesy of road To let me pass, That I am half ashamed
I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh,