#AmericanWriters
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
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
'Me an’ ma baby’s Got two mo’ ways, Two mo’ ways to do de Charleston!… Da, da, Da, da, da!
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 sat there singing her Songs in the dark. She said; 'I do not understand The words’.
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
The census man, The day he came round, Wanted my name To put it down. I said, Johnson,
Clean the spittoons, boy. Detroit, Chicago, Atlantic City, Palm Beach.
Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head w… Let the rain sing you a lullaby. The rain makes still pools on the… The rain makes running pools in th…
Here I sit With my shoes mismated. Lawdy—mercy! I’s frustrated!
How quiet It is in this sick room Where on the bed A silent woman lies between two lo… Life and Death,