#AmericanWriters
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
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—
Clean the spittoons, boy. Detroit, Chicago, Atlantic City, Palm Beach.
By what sends the white kids I ain’t sent: I know I can’t be President.
I dream a world where man No other man will scorn, Where love will bless the earth And peace its paths adorn I dream a world where all
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
When Susanna Jones wears red her face is like an ancient cameo Turned brown by the ages. Come with a blast of trumphets, J… When Susanna Jones wears red
Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
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…
Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria:
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.