#AmericanWriters
I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh,
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
I’ve known rivers: I’ve known rivers ancient as the w… My soul has grown deep like the ri… I bathed in the Euphrates when da… I built my hut near the Congo and…
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
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
How still, How strangely still The water is today, It is not good For water
He glides so swiftly Back into the grass— Gives me the courtesy of road To let me pass, That I am half ashamed
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
I play it cool I dig all jive. That's the reason I stay alive. My motto
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
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
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
When I get to be a composer I’m gonna write me some music abou… Daybreak in Alabama And I’m gonna put the purtiest so… Rising out of the ground like a sw…
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
Clean the spittoons, boy. Detroit, Chicago, Atlantic City, Palm Beach.