ABSTRACT
The poetry of the Negro is hard to pin down. Like his music, from spirituals and gospel songs to blues, jazz and be-bop, it is likely to be marked by a certain special riff, an extra glide, a kick where none is expected and a beat for which there is no notation. It follows the literary traditions of the language it uses, but it does not hold them sacred. As a result, there has been a tendency for critics to put it in a category by itself, outside the main body of American poetry.
