The lazy, laughing South 
With blood on its mouth. 
The sunny-faced South, 
     Beast-strong, 
     Idiot-brained. 
The child-minded South 
Scratching in the dead fire's ashes 
For a Negro's bones. 
     Cotton and the moon, 
     Warmth, earth, warmth, 
     The sky, the sun, the stars, 
     The magnolia-scented South. 
Beautiful, like a woman, 
Seductive as a dark-eyed whore, 
    Passionate, cruel, 
    Honey-lipped, syphilitic — 
    That is the South. 
And I, who am black, would love her 
But she spits in my face. 
And I, who am black, 
Would give her many rare gifts 
But she turns her back upon me.

(first published in Crisis, 1922)