Let them keep it whatever it is for whites only hides.
And smiles.
I was in the pale inn
after the writs
after the whores
after the hilariously lonely convention men
and was not improved
and wondered why anyone bothered.
I was in the mausoleum
with the corpses
and counted the bones and was sad.
I went up high and came down
and hurried home
to you and hugged the broken-glass ghetto
and was glad and wondered again
why anyone bothered…..
Reprinted by permission of Lerone Bennett, Jr.
