New York

I lived in New York for two weeks
once. Doing some research in Harlem.
The apartment's sad kitchen
had been in New York quite
a while, had arrived full of
confidence. The cockroaches,
who made me pine for my college
studio hole, belonged to well known
New York cockroach families.
I could tell by the way they
carried themselves. Only years
later did it occur to me
that New York's intensity
must, to lonely people, become
a merciless cruelty.


hans ostrom

The Weary Blues

One of the most enduring poems from the Harlem Renaissance is Langston Hughes's "The Weary Blues," which is not in blues form (as some of Hughes's poems are), but is rather a meditation on the blues--especially in a Harlem context, and more specifically Lenox Avenue.

I found a most appealing visual and aural "rendition" of the poem on Youtube. It is from Four Seasons Productions. I looked for but did not find the name of the reader, who does a terrific job. Many thanks to him.

I hope you enjoy it. It includes images of music's and culture's dear friend, Cab Calloway.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KyqwvC5s4n8