Jonathan Odell

But remember this. When God wants to punish us, he gives us just ourselves to care for.

That place I'm talking about ain't nothing but a bloody slit in this world of His. But everybody wants to rule over it. It ain't for the white man to rule. Ain't for any man to rule.

Creation is filled with soul-sick folks, colored and white, never knowing where they belong. They tangle everybody else up in their grief.

The biggest thing the white man takes from us ain__ our bodies. He takes our voices, too. He swallows up our yes__ and no__ like biscuits. But one day our yes__ and no__ will be so loud and strong they will lodge in his throat. He will have to spit them out to keep from choking. He will starve. There won__ be nothing left of him except the shadows he casts on the deadest night.

Sometimes you got to lie on the outside to keep your voice loud on the inside. We don__ owe the master the truth. He owes us. Nothing comes from the master. He is the thief in the night. He steals it all. And every time we have to say __es sir_ and __o sir,_ he steals some more. But we can survive it, if we stay loud in here,_ she said, throwing a fist hard against her breast.