In this week's episode of the Get Lit Minute, we discuss the life and work of poet Dudley Randell. Included in this episode is a reading of Randell's poem, "Booker T. and W.E.B." The full poem is also available below. The influence of Dudley Randall, founder of Broadside Press and Detroit’s first poet laureate, “has been one of the strongest—some say the strongest—in the black poetry movement of the last 15 years,” argued Suzanne Dolezal in Detroit magazine. “As publisher of Detroit’s Broadside Press between 1965 and 1977, Randall provided a forum for just about every major black poet to come along during those years. And dozens of anthologies include his own rapid, emotional lyrics about Detroit’s bag ladies, lonely old drunks, strapping foundry workers, and young women with glistening, corn-rowed hair,” she continued. “Beyond Randall’s contributions as a poet, his roles as editor and publisher have proven invaluable to the Afro-American community,” R. Baxter Miller wrote in the Dictionary of Literary Biography.

Booker T. and W.E.B.

BY DUDLEY RANDALL

“It seems to me,” said Booker T.,

“It shows a mighty lot of cheek

To study chemistry and Greek

When Mister Charlie needs a hand

To hoe the cotton on his land,

And when Miss Ann looks for a cook,

Why stick your nose inside a book?”

“I don’t agree,” said W.E.B.,

“If I should have the drive to seek

Knowledge of chemistry or Greek,

I’ll do it. Charles and Miss can look

Another place for hand or cook.

Some men rejoice in skill of hand,

And some in cultivating land,

But there are others who maintain

The right to cultivate the brain.”

“It seems to me,” said Booker T.,

“That all you folks have missed the boat

Who shout about the right to vote,

And spend vain days and sleepless nights

In uproar over civil rights.

Just keep your mouths shut, do not grouse,

But work, and save, and buy a house.”

“I don’t agree,” said W.E.B.,

“For what can property avail

If dignity and justice fail.

Unless you help to make the laws,

They’ll steal your house with trumped-up clause.

A rope’s as tight, a fire as hot,

No matter how much cash you’ve got.

Speak soft, and try your little plan,

But as for me, I’ll be a man.”

“It seems to me,” said Booker T.—

“I don’t agree,”

Said W.E.B.

Support the show

Support the show