#AmericanWriters
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,
Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria:
Let’s go see Old Abe Sitting in the marble and the moon… Sitting lonely in the marble and t… Quiet for ten thousand centuries,… Quiet for a million, million years…
I play it cool I dig all jive. That's the reason I stay alive. My motto
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,
It would be nice In any case, To someday meet you Face to face Walking down
He glides so swiftly Back into the grass— Gives me the courtesy of road To let me pass, That I am half ashamed
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
That Justice is a blind goddess Is a thing to which we black are w… Her bandage hides two festering so… That once perhaps were eyes.
You say I O.K.ed LONG DISTANCE? O.K.ed it when? My goodness, Central That was then!
Only dumb guys fight. If I wasn’t dumb I wouldn’t be fightin’. I could make six dollars a day On the docks
Big Boy came Carrying a mermaid On his shoulders And the mermaid Had her tail
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
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…