i
Green lawn
a picket fence
flowers—
My friend smiles
she had heard
that Southern
jails
were drab.
Looking up I see
a strong arm
raised
the Law
Someone in America
is being
protected
(from me.)
In the morning
there was
a man in grey
but the sky
was blue.
ii
“Look at that
nigger with those
white folks!”
My dark
Arrogant friend
turns calmly, curiously
helpfully,
“Where?” he
asks.
It was the fifth
arrest
In as many
days
How glad I am
that I can
look
surprised
still.
iii
Running down
Atlanta
streets
With my sign
I see heads
turn
Eyes
goggle
“a nice girl
like her!”
A Negro cook
assures
her mistress—
But I had seen
the fingers
near her eyes
wet with
tears.
iv
One day in
Georgia
Working around
the Negro section
My friend got a
letter
in
the mail
—the letter
said
“I hope you’re
having a good
time
fucking all
the niggers.”
“Sweet,” I winced.
“Who
wrote it?”
“mother.”
she
said.
That day she sat
a long time
a little black girl
in pigtails
on her lap
Her eyes were very
Quiet.
She used to tell the big colored ladies
her light eyes just
the same
“I am alone
my mother died.”
Though no other
letter
came.
v
It is true—
I’ve always loved
the daring
ones
Like the black young
man
Who tried
to crash
All barriers
at once,
wanted to
Swim
At a white
beach (in Alabama)
Nude.
vi
Peter always
thought
the only
way to
“enlighten”
southern towns
was to
introduce
himself
to
the county
sheriff
first thing.
Another thing
Peter wanted—
was to be
cremated
but we
couldn’t
find him
when he needed it.
But he was just a yid
seventeen.
vii
I
never liked
white folks
really
it
happened quite
suddenly
one
day
A pair of
amber
eyes
I
think
he
had.
viii
I don’t think
integration
entered
into it
officer
You see
there was
this little
Negro
girl
Standing here
alone
and her
mother
went into
that store
there
then—
there came by
this little boy
here
without his
mother
& eating
an
ice cream cone
—see there it is—
strawberry
Anyhow
and the little
girl was
hungry
and stronger
than
the little
boy—
Who is too
fat
really,
anyway.
ix
Someone said
to
me
that
if
the South
rises
again
it will do so
“from
the grave.”
Someone
else
said
if the South
rises
again
he would
“step on
it.”
Dick Gregory
said that
if the
South
rises
again
there is
a
secret
plan.
But I say—
if the
South
rises
again
It will not
do
so
in my presence.
x
“but I don’
really
give a fuck
Who
my daughter
marries—”
the lady
was
adorable—
it was in a
tavern
i remember
her daughter
sat there
beside her
tugging
at
her arm
sixteen—
very shy
and
very pim
pled.
xi
then there
was
the charming
half-wit
who told
the judge
re: indecent exposure
“but when I
step out
of the
tub
I look
Good—
just because
my skin
is black
don’t mean
it ain’t
pretty
you old bastard!)
what will we
finally do
with
prejudice
some people like
to take a walk
after a bath.
xii
“look, honey
said
the
blond
amply
boobed
babe
in the
green
g
string
“i like you
sure
i ain’t
prejudiced
but the
lord didn’t
give me
legs
like
these
because
he
wanted
to see’m
dangling
from a
poplar!”
“But they’re so
much
prettier
than mine.
Would you really mind?”
he asked
wanting her to dance.
xiii
I remember
seeing
a little girl,
dreaming—perhaps,
hit by
a
van truck
“That nigger was
in the way!” the
man
said
to
understanding cops.
But was she?
She was
just eight
her mother
said
and little
for
her age.
xiv
then there was
the
picture of
the
bleak-eyed
little black
girl
waving the
american
flag
holding it
gingerly
with
the very
tips
of her
fingers.