#AmericanWriters
By what sends the white kids I ain’t sent: I know I can’t be President.
It would be nice In any case, To someday meet you Face to face Walking down
I could take the Harlem night and wrap around you, Take the neon lights and make a cr… Take the Lenox Avenue busses, Taxis, subways,
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 an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
I am God— Without one friend, Alone in my purity World without end. Below me young lovers
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
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
My old man’s a white old man And my old mother’s black. If ever I cursed my white old man I take my curses back. If ever I cursed my black old mot…
Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria:
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, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh,
I play it cool I dig all jive. That's the reason I stay alive. My motto
You and your whole race. Look down upon the town in which y… And be ashamed. Look down upon white folks And upon yourselves
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done