Why Should I Want To Be White?

Summer Was Made To Give You A Taste Of What Hell Is Like. Winter Was Made For Landladies To Charge High Rents And Keep Cold Radiators And Make A Fortune Off Of Poor Tenants.

Politics Can Be The Graveyard Of The Poet. And Only Poetry Can Be His Resurrection.

I Will Not Take "but" For An Answer.

It Is The Duty Of The Younger Negro Artist . . . To Change Through The Force Of His Art That Old Whispering "i Want To Be White," Hidden In The Aspirations Of His People, To "why Should I Want To Be White? I Am A Negro - And Beautiful!"

It's Such A Bore Being Always Poor.