From day one, we aspire
to be more than the average
Negro. None of that ya**ah
boss & watermelon rind
smile for us. We want quail
cooked in bu*ter. We want
gold where that gap tooth
should be. Clarity for Negro
caricature. We want high-
styling clothing, gold rings
on our fingers like Greek
architecture & gold pocket
watches in our vest coats. More
women than coats. White women
all up in our architecture.
We want peculiar & instinctual
satisfactions. We want to be
prizefighting's main attraction:
the Heavyweight Champion
of the world. When we rise up
the whole Negro race rises up
with us. When we get to the top,
it's just us. No use for Negroes
then, not even ourselves.