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They wouldn’t let me be White 
Oh I wanted to be 
Dreams of that Pulitzer haunted me 

They said, Sir, you have ten minutes to play
I gave them Milton, Poe and Millay 
I stood before that panel 
Like I was auditioning for Jesus On judgment day 


I belted out those rhymes like Sandburg 
Gave them sweet elegant words 
I gave them personification and anapest 
Gave them Trochee with syllables unstressed 

I played those Robert Frost Blues 
Those Road less traveled Blues
 Those Thomas Hardy 
     going down on the Titanic Blues- 

And they said, Son, You could be the greatest 
Since Langston Hughes! 

And oh I was out of sight 
Switched up / Got Fancy 
Moved the stressed syllable 
From the middle to the right 
But still they wouldn’t let me be White 

I had every judge popping their fingers 
Moving their heads from left to right 
So I took a bow 
And smiled up at those lights 

 
I gave them Dickinson, Browning and Keats
 Oh I had those White judges on their feet 
I played until they saw stars 
A judge leaned over and said,
 You remind me so much of- What’s his name? 
Paul Lawrence Dunbar 

I played Eliot I played Cummings 
I played Stevens too 
I had those White Poets out of their shoes 

Oh I lifted them a hundred miles off the ground 
But when they came down 
They said, You could be the next Sterling Brown 
I said, Come on! Get out of town! 

I closed that audition with my best Haiku 
They said, M.e. Don’t take this wrong we like you 

I took a final bow I had performed to their delight 
But still they wouldn’t let me be White

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