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african american poetry

i went up and down the streets
last midnight
there were three in the meadow by the brook
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
gingham dog and the calico cat
often is it not so?
brief on a flying night
there by the window in the old house
death's nobility again
this is the arsenal
give me hunger
and breaketh bread no more

 



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