THE SOUTH
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he lazy, laughing SouthWith blood on its mouth.The sunny-faced South,Beast-strong,Idiot-brained.The child-minded SouthScratching in the dead fire’s ashesFor a Negro’s bones.Cotton and the moon,Warmth, earth, warmth,The sky, the sun, the stars,The magnolia-scented South.Beautiful, like a woman,Seductive as a dark-eyed whore,Passionate, cruel,Honey-lipped, syphilitic—That is the South.And I, who am black, would love herBut she spits in my face.And I, who am black,Would give her many rare giftsBut she turns her back upon me.So now I seek the North—The cold-faced North,For she, they say,Is a kinder mistress,And in her house my childrenMay escape the spell of the South.
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