The Book of American Negro Poetry/Tired

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TIRED

I am tired of work; I am tired of building up somebody
  else's civilization.
Let us take a rest, M'Lissy Jane.
I will go down to the Last Chance Saloon, drink a gallon
  or two of gin, shoot a game or two of dice and
  sleep the rest of the night on one of Mike's barrels.
You will let the old shanty go to rot, the white people's
  clothes turn to dust, and the Calvary Baptist Church
  sink to the bottomless pit.
You will spend your days forgetting you married me and
  your nights hunting the warm gin Mike serves the
  ladies in the rear of the Last Chance Saloon.
Throw the children into the river; civilization has given
  us too many. It is better to die than it is to grow
  up and find out that you are colored.
Pluck the stars out of the heavens. The stars mark our
  destiny. The stars marked my destiny.
I am tired of civilization.