Selected Poems of Langston Hughes (8 page)

Here on the edge of hell

Stands Harlem—

Remembering the old lies,

The old kicks in the back,

The old,
Be patient
,

They told us before.

Sure, we remember.

Now, when the man at the corner store

Says sugar’s gone up another two cents,

And bread one,

And there’s a new tax on cigarettes—

We remember the job we never had,

Never could get,

And can’t have now

Because we’re colored.

So we stand here

On the edge of hell

In Harlem

And look out on the world

And wonder

What we’re gonna do

In the face of

What we remember.

Beige sailors with large noses

Binocular the Atlantic.

At Club Harlem it’s eleven

And seven cats go frantic.

Two parties from Philadelphia

Dignify the place

And murmur:

Such Negroes

disgrace the race!

On Artie Avenue

Sea food joints

Scent salty-colored

Compass points.

Albert!

Hey, Albert!

Don’t you play in dat road.

    You see dem trucks

    A-goin’ by.

    One run ovah you

    An’ you die.

Albert, don’t you play in dat road.

Colored child at carnival:

Where is the Jim Crow section

On this merry-go-round,

Mister, cause I want to ride?

Down South where I come from

White and colored

Can’t sit side by side.

Down South on the train

There’s a Jim Crow car.

On the bus we’re put in the back—

But there ain’t no back

To a merry-go-round!

Where’s the horse

For a kid that’s black?

I got a job now

Runnin’ an elevator

In the Dennison Hotel in Jersey.

Job ain’t no good though.

No money around.

    Jobs are just chances

    Like everything else.

    Maybe a little luck now,

    Maybe not.

    Maybe a good job sometimes:

    Step out o’ the barrel, boy.

Two new suits an’

A woman to sleep with.

    Maybe no luck for a long time.

    Only the elevators

    Goin’ up an’ down,

    Up an’ down,

    Or somebody else’s shoes

    To shine,

    Or greasy pots in a dirty kitchen.

I been runnin’ this

Elevator too long.

Guess I’ll quit now.

I looked and I saw

That man they call the Law.

He was coming

Down the street at me!

I had visions in my head

Of being laid out cold and dead,

Or else murdered

By the third degree.

I said,
O, Lord, if you can
,

Save me from that man!

Don’t let him make a pulp out of me!

But the Lord he was not quick.

The Law raised up his stick

And beat the living hell

Out of me!

Now, I do not understand

Why God don’t protect a man

From police brutality.

Being poor and black,

I’ve no weapon to strike back

So who but the Lord

Can protect me?

Hit me! Jab me!

Make me say I did it.

Blood on my sport shirt

And my tan suede shoes.

Faces like jack-o’-lanterns

In gray slouch hats
.

Slug me! Beat me!

Scream jumps out

Like blow-torch.

Three kicks between the legs

That km the kids

I’d make tomorrow.

Bars and floor skyrocket

And burst like Roman candles
.

When you throw

Cold water on me,

I’ll sign the

Paper.…

No money to bury him.

The relief gave Forty-Four.

The undertaker told ’em,

You’ll need Sixty more

For a first-class funeral,

A hearse and two cars—

And maybe your friends’ll

Send some flowers.

His wife took a paper

And went around.

Everybody that gave something

She put ’em down.

She raked up a Hundred

For her man that was dead.

His buddies brought flowers.

A funeral was had.

A minister preached—

And charged Five

To bless him dead

And praise him alive.

Now that he’s buried—

God rest his soul—

Reckon there’s no charge

For graveyard mold.

I wonder what makes

A funeral so high?

A poor man ain’t got

No business to die
.

My name is Johnson—

Madam Alberta K.

The Madam stands for business.

I’m smart that way.

I had a

HAIR-DRESSING PARLOR

Before

The depression put

The prices lower.

Then I had a

BARBECUE STAND

Till I got mixed up

With a no-good man.

Cause I had a insurance

The WPA

Said, We can’t use you

Wealthy that way.

I said,

DON’T WORRY ’BOUT ME!

Just like the song,

You WPA folks take care of yourself—

And I’ll get along.

I do cooking,

Day’s work, too!

Alberta K. Johnson—

Madam
to you.

I worked for a woman,

She wasn’t mean—

But she had a twelve-room

House to clean.

Had to get breakfast,

Dinner, and supper, too—

Then take care of her children

When I got through.

Wash, iron, and scrub,

Walk the dog around—

It was too much,

Nearly broke me down.

I said, Madam,

Can it be

You trying to make a

Pack-horse out of me?

She opened her mouth.

She cried, Oh, no!

You know, Alberta,

I love you so!

I said, Madam,

That may be true—

But I’ll be dogged

If I love you!

I had some cards printed

The other day.

They cost me more

Than I wanted to pay.

I told the man

I wasn’t no mint,

But I hankered to see

My name in print

MADAM JOHNSON,

ALBERTA K.

He said, Your name looks good

Madam’d that way.

Shall I use Old English

Or a Roman letter?

I said, Use American.

American’s better.

There’s nothing foreign

To my pedigree:

Alberta K. Johnson—

American
that’s me.

The rent man knocked.

He said, Howdy-do?

I said, What

Can I do for you?

He said, You know

Your rent is due.

I said, Listen,

Before I’d pay

I’d go to Hades

And rot away!

The sink is broke,

The water don’t run,

And you ain’t done a thing

You promised to’ve done.

Back window’s cracked,

Kitchen floor squeaks,

There’s rats in the cellar,

And the attic leaks.

He said, Madam,

It’s not up to me.

I’m just the agent,

Don’t you see?

I said, Naturally,

You pass the buck.

If it’s money you want

You’re out of luck.

He said, Madam,

I ain’t pleased!

I said, Neither am I.

So we agrees!

Number runner

Come to my door.

I had swore

I wouldn’t play no more.

He said, Madam,

6–0–2

Looks like a likely

Hit for you.

I said, Last night,

I dreamed 7–0–3.

He said, That might

Be a hit for me.

He played a dime,

I played, too,

Then we boxed ’em.

Wouldn’t you?

But the number that day

Was 3–2–6—

And we both was in

The
same
old fix.

I said, I swear I

Ain’t gonna play no more

Till I get over

To the other shore—

Then I can play

On them golden streets

Where the number not only

Comes out—but repeats!

The runner said, Madam,

That’s all very well—

But suppose

You goes to hell?

You say I O.K.ed

LONG DISTANCE?

O.K.ed it when?

My goodness, Central,

That was
then!

I’m mad and disgusted

With that Negro now.

I don’t pay no REVERSED

CHARGES nohow.

You say, I will pay it—

Else you’ll take out my phone?

You better let

My phone alone.

I didn’t ask him

To telephone me.

Roscoe knows darn well

LONG DISTANCE

Ain’t free.

If I ever catch him,

Lawd, have pity!

Calling me up

From Kansas City

Just to say he loves me!

I knowed that was so.

Why didn’t he tell me some’n

I don’t know?

For instance, what can

Them other girls do

That Alberta K. Johnson

Can’t do—
and more, too?

What’s that, Central?

You say you don’t care

Nothing about my

Private affair?

Well, even less about your

PHONE BILL does I care!

Un-humm-m! … Yes!

You say I gave my O.K.?

Well, that O.K. you may keep—

But I
sure
ain’t gonna pay!

Once I adopted

A little girl child.

She grew up and got ruint,

Nearly drove me wild.

Then I adopted

A little boy.

He used a switch-blade

For a toy.

What makes these charity

Children so bad?

Ain’t had no luck

With none I had.

Poor little things,

Born behind the 8-rock,

With parents that don’t even

Stop to take stock.

The county won’t pay me

But a few bucks a week.

Can’t raise no child on that,

So to speak.

And the lady from the

Juvenile Court

Always coming around

Wanting a report.

Last time I told her,

Report, my eye!

Things is bad—

You figure out why!

Fortune teller looked in my hand.

Fortune teller said,

Madam, It’s just good luck

You ain’t dead.

Fortune teller squeeze my hand.

She squinted up her eyes.

Fortune teller said,

Madam, you ain’t wise.

I said, Please explain to me

What you mean by that?

She said, You must recognize

Where your fortune’s at.

I said, Madam, tell me—

For she was
Madam
, too—

Where
is
my fortune at?

I’ll pay some mind to you.

She said, Your fortune, honey,

Lies right in yourself.

You ain’t gonna find it

On nobody else’s shelf.

I said, What
man
you’re talking ’bout?

She said, Madam! Be calm—

For one more dollar and a half,

I’ll read your other palm.

A man knocked three times.

I never seen him before.

He said, Are you Madam?

I said, What’s the score?

He said, I reckon

You don’t know my name,

But I’ve come to call

On you just the same.

I stepped back

Like he had a charm.

He said, I really

Don’t mean no harm.

I’m just Old Death

And I thought I might

Pay you a visit

Before night.

He said, You’re Johnson—

Madam Alberta K.?

I said, Yes—but
Alberta

Ain’t goin’ with you today!

No sooner had I told him

Than I awoke.

The doctor said, Madam,

Your fever’s broke—

Nurse, put her on a diet,

And buy her some chicken.

I said, Better buy
two—

Cause I’m still here kickin’!

Reverend Butler came by

My house last week.

He said, Have you got

A little time to speak?