Clean the spittoons, boy.
Clean the spittoons.
The steam in hotel kitchens,
And the smoke in hotel lobbies,
And the slime in hotel spittoons:
Part of my life.
Two dollars a day.
Buy shoes for the baby.
House rent to pay.
Gin on Saturday,
Church on Sunday.
Babies and gin and church
And women and Sunday
All mixed with dimes and
Dollars and clean spittoons
And house rent to pay.
A bright bowl of brass is beautiful to the Lord.
Bright polished brass like the cymbals
Of King David’s dancers,
Like the wine cups of Solomon.
A clean spittoon on the altar of the Lord.
A clean bright spittoon all newly polished—
At least I can offer that.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Brass Spittoons by Langston Hughes )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- WAR SPARE THEE, Shanika marini Paul
- rivers arms around me, Mandolyn Davidson
- i'm homesick for you, Mandolyn Davidson
- Spread Love Like VD?, LUVinThe NOW
- The Revelation Of The Brahman, Bazi alis Subrata Ray
- Lord, Lord, Jared Hirsch
- My Satan, Jared Hirsch
- Shakespeare, Nassy Fesharaki
- Blood of Gaza, Akhtar Jawad
- Small is no less than the big, Dr.Rajendra Tela,Nirantar