Lewis Grandison Alexander

Look me over, kid!
I know I’m neat, -
Little Cinderella from head to feet.
Drinks all night at Club Alabam, -
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The sky hangs heavy tonight
Like the hair of a Negro woman.
The scars of the moon are curved
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Thou art not dead, although the spoiler’s hand
Lies heavy as death upon thee; though the wrath
Of its accursed might is in thy path
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Avenues of dreams
Boulevards of pain
Moving black streams
Shimmering like rain.
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I
Life goes by moving,
Up and down a chain of moods
Wanting what’s nothing.
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FORM

You stood in the yard
Like a lilac bush
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