#AmericanWriters
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark
When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. Since I come up North de
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
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
Goin’ down the road, Lawd, Goin’ down the road. Down the road, Lawd, Way, way down the road. Got to find somebody
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 went down to the river, I set down on the bank. I tried to think but couldn’t, So I jumped in and sank. I came up once and hollered!
I am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple f… You are my son!
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
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…