The thoughts of old farm tools

by austin   Jun 21, 2006


I AM the nigger.
Singer of songs,
Dancerâ
Softer than fluff of cotton
Harder than dark earth
Roads beaten in the sun
By the bare feet of slave
Foam of teeth breaking crash of laughter
Red love of the blood of woman,
White love of the tumbling pickaninniPaganini's
Lazy love of the banjo thrum
Sweated and driven for the harvest-wage,
Loud laugher with hands like hams,
Fists toughened on the handles,
Smiling the slumber dreams of old jungles,
Crazy as the sun and dew and dripping, heaving life of the jungle,were i belong
Brooding and muttering with memories of shackles:
I am the nigger.
Look at me.
I am the nigger.

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