#AmericanWriters
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
I’ve known rivers: I’ve known rivers ancient as the w… My soul has grown deep like the ri… I bathed in the Euphrates when da… I built my hut near the Congo and…
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
I went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
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
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
When the old junk man Death Comes to gather up our bodies And toss them into the sack of obl… I wonder if he will find The corpse of a white multi—millio…
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—
You say I O.K.ed LONG DISTANCE? O.K.ed it when? My goodness, Central That was then!
I work all day, Said Simple John, Myself a house to buy. I work all day, Said Simple John,
When the shoe strings break On both your shoes And you’re in a hurry— That’s the blues. When you go to buy a candy bar
She, In the dark, Found light Brighter than many ever see. She,
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,