I Am the American Negro (collection)/Dancing Gal

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DANCING GAL
Black and tan—yeah, black and tanSpewing the moans of a jigtime bandWhat does your belly crave?
A brown-sugar brownSlim gal swaysPretzel twistingBeneath a yellow thumbOf steel-stiff lightAmid a striped rainOf red-note, blue-note
Jazz-hot jazzGazelle gracefulLovely as a lover’s dreamSilken skinned, stillwater softYoung girl breasts in gold encasedScant gold around her lower waistRed lips partedDark eyes flashingShe dancesDips, whirls, undulatesHer body a living chordSet loud and sweetAgainst the bitter quietOf drab and muted human shapes
I see a long lean godStanding in painted splendor ​Motionless in the scented airOf TanganyikaI see a frozen idolSet free from a single stoneShielding with seven armsHis world in Hindustan . . .Africa's madness, India's sadnessWedded in ChicagoBy a Midwest galIn a Jew's cafe . . .
Black and tan—yeah, black and tanDrenched in the jazz of a swingtime bandIs this what your belly craves?
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