#AmericanWriters
I know I am The Negro Problem Being wined and dined, Answering the usual questions That come to white mind
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
Goin’ down the road, Lawd, Goin’ down the road. Down the road, Lawd, Way, way down the road. Got to find somebody
Here I sit With my shoes mismated. Lawdy—mercy! I’s frustrated!
He glides so swiftly Back into the grass— Gives me the courtesy of road To let me pass, That I am half ashamed
The census man, The day he came round, Wanted my name To put it down. I said, Johnson,
I play it cool I dig all jive. That's the reason I stay alive. My motto
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think
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,
The night is beautiful, So the faces of my people. The stars are beautiful, So the eyes of my people. Beautiful, also, is the sun.
Gather quickly Out of darkness All the songs you know And throw them at the sun Before they melt
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
I sat there singing her Songs in the dark. She said; 'I do not understand The words’.
I woke up this mornin’ ’Bout half-past three. All the womens in town Was gathered round me. Sweet gals was a-moanin’,
She, In the dark, Found light Brighter than many ever see. She,