Self Portrait

I would be

A painter with words

Creating sharp portraits

On the wide canvas of your mind

Images of those things

Shaped through my eyes

That interest me;

But being a Tenth American

In this democracy

I sometimes sketch a miniature

Though I contract for a mural.

Of course

You understand this democracy;

One man as good as another,

From log cabin to White House,

Poor boy to corporation president,

Hoover and Browder with one vote each,

A free country,

Complete equality—

Yeah—

And the rich get tax refunds,

The poor get relief checks.

As for myself

I pay five cents for a daily synopsis of current history,

Two bits and the late lowdown on Hollywood,

Twist a dial for Stardust or Shostakovich,

And with each bleacher stub I reserve the right to shout “kill the bum” at the umpire—

Wherefore am I different

From nine other Americans?

But listen, you

Don’t worry about me

I rate!

I’m Convert 4711 at Beulah Baptist Church,

I’m Social Security No. 337-16-3458 in Washington,

Thank you Mister God and Mister Roosevelt!

And another thing:—

No matter what happens

I too can always call in a policeman!

Copyright Credit: Frank Marshall Davis, “Self Portrait” from Black Moods: Collected Poems. Copyright © 2002 by the Trustees of the University of Illinois. Reprinted with the permission of the University of Illinois Press.

Source: Black Moods (University of Illinois Press, 1948)