#AmericanWriters
Good morning, daddy! Ain’t you heard The boogie—woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Listen closely:
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
I went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh,
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 take my dreams and make of them… and a round fountain with a beauti… And a song with a broken heart and… Do you understand my dreams? Sometimes you say you do,
I know I am The Negro Problem Being wined and dined, Answering the usual questions That come to white mind
When the shoe strings break On both your shoes And you’re in a hurry— That’s the blues. When you go to buy a candy bar
And that is what poetry may do, wrap up your dreams, protect and preserve and hold them until maybe they come true. Columbus dreamed of finding a new world, he found it. Edison dreamed ...
I work all day, Said Simple John, Myself a house to buy. I work all day, Said Simple John,
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria:
Gather quickly Out of darkness All the songs you know And throw them at the sun Before they melt
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