II
I FOUND the negro girl
Walking down a railroad track.
The unconscious humour of sunlight
Disputed the gloom of her skin.
Her gray and dirty clothes
Disgraced the haste of her body.
Her feet and arms were bare
And thin as sensual disappointments.
An egg stood straight upon
The blonde attention of her hair.
The upturned remonstrance of her head
Revealed her balancing effort.
Lacking a more intense food
She dined upon the air
And sang with loosened despair.
Gonna lay mah head right down upon dat—
Down upon dat railroad track!
Gonna rest mah head right down upon dat railroad track.
An’ wen the train goes by—’m boy—
Ahm gonna snatch it back.
The negro girl received my gaze
And broke it on her poignant face.
“Why do you carry the egg?” I said.
“If I could only hate it less
I might break it, and undress,”
She answered with motionless lips.