(61/64) -- Poems by Claude McKay

He’ll carry me ‘fo’ officer, An’ rake up’ t’ings fe charge me for ; An’ all because dese couple days Me couldn’ gie ‘m de usual raise. Last night, when it come to roll-call, Dis corpy couldn’ ‘ten’ at all : We didn’ mek de S.M.[2] see ‘m, But only put things ‘traight fe him. An’ we, like big fools, be’n deh fret Ober de corpy drunk to deaf : We all treat him so very kin’, Aldough him ha’ such dutty min’.