HARLEM RENAISSANCE POETRY Langston Hughes (1902-­‐1967) Dream Deferred [Harlem] What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore— And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over— like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sags like a heavy load. Or does it explode? (OVER) Dream Boogie Good morning, daddy! Ain’t you heard The boogie-­‐woogie rumble of a dream deferred? Listen closely: You’ll hear their feet Beating out and beating out a— You think It’s a happy beat? Listen to it closely: Ain’t you heard something underneath like a— What did I say? Sure, I’m happy! Take it away! Hey, pop! Re-­‐bop! Mop! Y-­‐e-­‐a-­‐h!