#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
Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow… I heard a Negro play. Down on Lenox Avenue the other ni… By the pale dull pallor of an old…
I am God— Without one friend, Alone in my purity World without end. Below me young lovers
In places like Selma, Alabama, Kids say, In places like Chicago and New York...
I’m all alone in this world, she s… Ain’t got nobody to share my bed, Ain’t got nobody to hold my hand— The truth of the matter’s I ain’t got no man.
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
It was a long time ago. I have almost forgotten my dream. But it was there then, In front of me, Bright like a sun—
I worked for a woman, She wasn’t mean— But she had a twelve—room House to clean. Had to get breakfast,
Good morning, daddy! Ain’t you heard The boogie—woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Listen closely:
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,
The gold moth did not love him So, gorgeous, she flew away. But the gray moth circled the flam… Until the break of day. And then, with wings like a dead d…
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
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
We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark