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Success is a great deodorant. -Elizabeth Taylor |
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Each Fall the graves of my grandfathers call me, the brown hills and red gullies of Mississippi send out their...
Another weaver of black dreams has gone.
Source: For Lanston Hughes.
--...
To write a blues song
is to regiment riots
and pluck gems from graves.
I boil my tears in a twisted spoon
And dance like an angel on the point of a needle.
In the beginning was the word,
And in the end the deed.
Judas did it to Jesus
Tor the same Herd. Same...