Good Morning, Daddy! Ain't You Heard The

Hang Yourself, Poet, In Your Own Words. Otherwise, You Are Dead.

The Depression Brought Everybody Down A Peg Or Two. And The Negroes Had But Few Pegs To Fall.

Wear It Like A Banner For The Proud? Not Like A Shroud.

I Stay Cool, And Dig All Jive, That's The Way I Stay Alive. My Motto, As I Live And Learn, Is Dig And Be Dug In Return.

Through My Grandmother's Stories Always Life Moved, Moved Heroically Toward An End. Nobody Ever Cried In My Grandmother's Stories. They Worked, Or Schemed, Or Fought. But No Crying. When My Grandmother Died, I Didn't Cry, Either. Something About My Grandmother's Stories (without Her Ever Having Said So) Taught Me The Uselessness Of Crying About Anything."