Another Harlem Renaissance

That time you thought it was night,
it turned out to be Countee Cullen.

You tried on Edna St. Vincent Millay’s hat,
you cried because your brain was way too big.

Does this dress make me look like Amy Lowell?
No, I said, like Percival.

You thought you recognized the Mt. Rushmore faces,
but you was wrong.

Women. Can’t live with them, can’t live without them.
I apologize to you profusely, Mr. Countee Cullen.

I’m so sorry I had to drag your black ass
into this domestic squabble.


Here is an interesting story
about Cullen and his times.