Clean the spittoons, boy.
Clean the spittoons.
The steam in hotel kitchens,
And the smoke in hotel lobbies,
And the slime in hotel spittoons:
Part of my life.
Two dollars a day.
Buy shoes for the baby.
House rent to pay.
Gin on Saturday,
Church on Sunday.
Babies and gin and church
And women and Sunday
All mixed with dimes and
Dollars and clean spittoons
And house rent to pay.
A bright bowl of brass is beautiful to the Lord.
Bright polished brass like the cymbals
Of King David’s dancers,
Like the wine cups of Solomon.
A clean spittoon on the altar of the Lord.
A clean bright spittoon all newly polished—
At least I can offer that.
Langston Hughes's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Brass Spittoons by Langston Hughes )
Did you read them?
- General Sweeney Dies at 84, Ron Slate
- Respect the truth, men, gajanan mishra
- Respect truth, gajanan mishra
- Reunion, Ron Slate
- Save Your Questions, David Griebel
- Comfort, Alexandra Motschmann
- ISIS and Anti-terror victory, Alexandra Motschmann
- Strange Coincidence, Khairul Ahsan
- THE WRINKLED YOUNG LADY, Visato Kiso
- The Preacher's Wife, Effie Waller Smith
Poem of the Day
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- On the Pulse of Morning, Maya Angelou
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- No Man Is An Island, John Donne
- All the World's a Stage, William Shakespeare
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- A Dream Within A Dream, Edgar Allan Poe
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(3 June 1926 – 5 April 1997)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(8 February 1911 – 6 October 1979)
(November 9 - 1937)
- Heather Burns