#AmericanWriters
My name is Johnson— Madam Alberta K. The Madam stands for business. I’m smart that way. I had a
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 am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple f… You are my son!
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,
The census man, The day he came round, Wanted my name To put it down. I said, Johnson,
The ivory gods, And the ebony gods, And the gods of diamond and jade, Sit silently on their temple shelv… While the people
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
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…
When a man starts out with nothing… When a man starts out with his han… Empty, but clean, When a man starts to build a world… He starts first with himself
By what sends the white kids I ain’t sent: I know I can’t be President.
I worked for a woman, She wasn’t mean— But she had a twelve—room House to clean. Had to get breakfast,
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 live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria:
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done