Fenton Johnson, "The Banjo Player" (1919)
There is music in me, the music of a peasant
people. I wander through the levee, picking my banjo and
singing my songs of the cabin and the field. At
the Last Chance Saloon I am as welcome as the
violets in March; there is always food and drink for
me there, and the dimes of those who love honest
music. Behind the railroad tracks the little children
clap their hands and love me as they love Kris
Kringle.
But I fear that I am a failure. Last night a
woman called me a troubadour. What is a troubadour?
Published in Others, 1919
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- Fenton Johnson: Poems and Author Profile Amardeep Singh