Two poems by Langston Hughes:

Harlem
-----------------
What happens to a dream deferred?		

	Does it dry up	
	like a raisin in the sun?	
	Or fester like a sore -	
	And then run?	
	Does it stink like rotten meat?	
	Or crust and sugar over -	
	like a syrupy sweet?	
	Maybe it just sags	
	like a heavy load

Or does it explode?




Likewise
---------------------------

The Jews:	
Groceries	
Suits	
Fruits	
Watches	
Diamond rings	
THE DAILY NEWS

Jews sell me things.
Yom Kippur, no!
Shops all over Harlem
close up tight that night.
Some folks blame high prices on the Jews
(Some folks blame too much on the Jews.)
But in Harlem they don't answer back,
Just maybe shrug their shoulders,
"What's the use?
in Harlem?
What's the use?
What's the Harlem
use in Harlem?
what's the lick?

Hey!
Baba-re-bop!
Mop!
On a be-bop kick!


Sometimes I think
Jews must have heard
the music of a
dream deferred.




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