#AmericanWriters
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
'Me an’ ma baby’s Got two mo’ ways, Two mo’ ways to do de Charleston!… Da, da, Da, da, da!
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—
We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done
I got to leave this town. It’s a lonesome place. Got to leave this town cause It’s a lonesome place. A po’, po’ boy can’t
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
To fling my arms wide In some place of the sun, To whirl and to dance Till the white day is done. Then rest at cool evening
The census man, The day he came round, Wanted my name To put it down. I said, Johnson,
I went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
Landlord, landlord, My roof has sprung a leak. Don’t you 'member I told you abou… Way last week? Landlord, landlord,
That Justice is a blind goddess Is a thing to which we black are w… Her bandage hides two festering so… That once perhaps were eyes.
When Susanna Jones wears red her face is like an ancient cameo Turned brown by the ages. Come with a blast of trumphets, J… When Susanna Jones wears red
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
I will take you heart. I will take your soul out of your… As though I were God. I will not be satisfied With the touch of your hand