#AmericanWriters
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
Democracy will not come Today, this year Nor ever Through compromise and fear. I have as much right
My old man’s a white old man And my old mother’s black. If ever I cursed my white old man I take my curses back. If ever I cursed my black old mot…
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
I was so sick last night I Didn’t hardly know my mind. So sick last night I Didn’t know my mind. I drunk some bad licker that
You and your whole race. Look down upon the town in which y… And be ashamed. Look down upon white folks And upon yourselves
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.
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,
It’s such a Bore Being always Poor.
I know I am The Negro Problem Being wined and dined, Answering the usual questions That come to white mind
Landlord, landlord, My roof has sprung a leak. Don’t you 'member I told you abou… Way last week? Landlord, landlord,