Dear secret service, agent man.
To a single woman come and lip it is.
Do you know what corn pone really is.
It is sweet.
It is puffy that it's fat.
That it is olive gold.
Do black folk kidding drink it only can.
And of the white woman to whom, I can't.
But then again corn pone it also is.
Thinking yellow treat that is.
Starchy soft and wet there in between.
Corn pone is more than sweet.
Walking home from school.
My friend she turned and said.
Corn pone is and was.
What the rich kings that have I tried it.
All died for.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem