#AmericanWriters
Harlem Sent him home in a long box— Too dead To know why:
I was so sick last night I Didn’t hardly know my mind. So sick last night I Didn’t know my mind. I drunk some bad licker that
I play it cool I dig all jive. That's the reason I stay alive. My motto
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!
By what sends the white kids I ain’t sent: I know I can’t be President.
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
Good morning, daddy! Ain’t you heard The boogie—woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Listen closely:
I am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple f… You are my son!
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
My old mule, He’s gota grin on his face. He’s been a mule so long He’s forgotten about his race. I’m like that old mule —
I know I am The Negro Problem Being wined and dined, Answering the usual questions That come to white mind
Clean the spittoons, boy. Detroit, Chicago, Atlantic City, Palm Beach.
I look at the world From awakening eyes in a black fac… And this is what I see: This fenced—off narrow space Assigned to me.
When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. Since I come up North de