I am the ******. Singer of songs, Dancer... Softer than fluff of cotton... Harder than dark earth Roads beaten in the sun By the bare feet of slaves... Foam of teeth... breaking crash of laughter... Red love of the blood of woman, White love of the tumbling pickaninnies... Lazy love of the banjo thrum... Sweated and driven for the harvest-wage, Loud laughter with hands like hams, Fists toughened on the handles, Smiling the slumber dreams of old jungles, Crazy as the sun and dew and dripping, heaving life of the jungle, Brooding and muttering with memories of shackles: I am the ******. Look at me. I am the ******.