#AmericanWriters
Listen! Dear dream of utter aliveness— Touching my body of utter death— Tell me, O quickly! dream of aliv… The flaming source of your bright…
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
The ivory gods, And the ebony gods, And the gods of diamond and jade, Sit silently on their temple shelv… While the people
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
I know I am The Negro Problem Being wined and dined, Answering the usual questions That come to white mind
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think
Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria:
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,
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
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
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,
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.
You and your whole race. Look down upon the town in which y… And be ashamed. Look down upon white folks And upon yourselves
Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head w… Let the rain sing you a lullaby. The rain makes still pools on the… The rain makes running pools in th…