Art Is Whatever Makes You Proud To

An Evil Word It Is/ This Love.

To Name Something Is To Wait For It In The Place You Think It Will Pass.

The African, Because Of The Violent Differences Between What Was Native And What He Was Forced To In Slavery, Developed Some Of The Most Complex And Complicated Ideas About The World Imaginable.

Poetry Is Music, And Nothing But Music. Words With Musical Emphasis.

When I Die, The Consciousness I Carry I Will To Black People. May They Pick Me Apart And Take The Useful Parts, The Sweet Meat Of My Feelings. And Leave The Bitter Bullshit Rotten White Parts Alone.