The Sundays Of Satin-Legs Smith (Gwendolyn Elizabeth Brooks Poems)
Inamoratas, with an approbation,Bestowed his title. Blessed his inclination.He wakes, unwinds, elaborately: a catTawny, reluctant, royal. He is fatAnd fine ...
Inamoratas, with an approbation,Bestowed his title. Blessed his inclination.He wakes, unwinds, elaborately: a catTawny, reluctant, royal. He is fatAnd fine ...
Ugliest little boythat everyone ever saw.That is what everyone said.Even to his mother it was apparent-when the blue-aproned nurse came ...
IAS SEEN BY DISCIPLINESThere they are.Thirty at the corner.Black, raw, ready.Sores in the citythat do not want to heal.IITHE LEADERSJeff. ...
Black love, provide the adequate electricfor what is lapsed and lenient in us now.Rouse us from blur. Call us.Call adequately the ...
Into her mother's bedroom to wash the ballooning body."My mother is jelly-hearted and she has a brain of jelly:Sweet, quiver-soft, ...
At home we pray every morning, weget down on our knees in a circle,holding hands, holding Love,and we sing hallelujah.Then ...
We are things of dry hours and the involuntary plan,Grayed in, and gray. "Dream" makes a giddy sound, not strongLike ...
Being you, you cut your poetry from wood.The boiling of an egg is heavy art.You come upon it as an ...
Mrs. Coley's three-flat brickIsn't here any more.All done with seeing her fat little formBurst out of the basement door;And with ...
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