#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
You and your whole race. Look down upon the town in which y… And be ashamed. Look down upon white folks And upon yourselves
Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you— Then, it will be true. I wonder if it’s that simple?
The ivory gods, And the ebony gods, And the gods of diamond and jade, Sit silently on their temple shelv… While the people
Clean the spittoons, boy. Detroit, Chicago, Atlantic City, Palm Beach.
I went down to the river, I set down on the bank. I tried to think but couldn’t, So I jumped in and sank. I came up once and hollered!
2 and 2 are 4. 4 and 4 are 8. But what would happen If the last 4 was late? And how would it be
We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark
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…
In the Quarter of the Negroes Where the doors are doors of paper Dust of dingy atoms Blows a scratchy sound. Amorphous jack—o’—Lanterns caper
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
You say I O.K.ed LONG DISTANCE? O.K.ed it when? My goodness, Central That was then!
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 would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
Oh, silver tree! Oh, shining rivers of the soul! In a Harlem cabaret Six long—headed jazzers play. A dancing girl whose eyes are bold