#AmericanWriters
I am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple f… You are my son!
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
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…
I am God— Without one friend, Alone in my purity World without end. Below me young lovers
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
When the old junk man Death Comes to gather up our bodies And toss them into the sack of obl… I wonder if he will find The corpse of a white multi—millio…
Goin’ down the road, Lawd, Goin’ down the road. Down the road, Lawd, Way, way down the road. Got to find somebody
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
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
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.
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.
I work all day, Said Simple John, Myself a house to buy. I work all day, Said Simple John,
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
Gather quickly Out of darkness All the songs you know And throw them at the sun Before they melt
Clean the spittoons, boy. Detroit, Chicago, Atlantic City, Palm Beach.