Apparently he'd go to New Orleans by flatboat when he was young.

Is this referring to a people? The mention of 'Nigger God' later in the poem can only mean this speaker is referring to African American's, right? There's so much talk of blood in this poem, I'm losing track of its ultimate meaning.

This doesn't seem to fit the image I had created for this poem, even on a reread. I can't help but feel as if I'm missing something obvious. This poem is about beauty, is that correct?

So, it's clear that the 'reapers' aren't reapers of souls in the mythic sense. These people, farmers most likely, cutting down weeds with disregard for the lives within those weeds. Could this be commentary on the emptiness in taking lives when one does it for a cause (like war), or perhaps a statement on how we often take more than we need often regardless of what that may mean for the next person?

I'm missing something. Seven is clearly the most prominent number in the poem, but how does that make this six significant?

I can't find explanation on this phrase, 'slant-envy.' The fact that it is in relation to an eyes makes me feel as though this person is envious of another's eye-shape. That exists even today, and can be changed cosmetically through surgery,

So Claude's like, 'America can be vicious, but also vivifying.' He then wraps his poem up by saying that he doesn't believe this goodness will last. I wonder, which is not meant to last, his own perspective of America, or America in general?

It may not taste all that good, but it is sustenance. Something tells me our friend Claude did not like his new home in America...

Oh, oh. The fruits are a metaphor for immigration, spoken from the perspective of an immigrant. Claude McKay was from Jamaica, so that does make sense.

The one who seems the most energetic and alive on the stage is unhappy underneath the surface-- classic. The imagery in this poem was very vivid. I like how the speaker tells the reader everything they (the reader) think matters about the dancer, only for it to be revealed that none of it leads to anything worth knowing. I think why the dancer is unhappy is deliberately meant to be a mystery to hammer-in the point that we are only seeing what's on the surface. Like we're just one of the spectators, maybe.

Pretty clear this is a resistance piece-- not sure if there's room for interpreting that in any other way. Claude McKay was from Jamaica, but does that necessarily mean this is a call to action for African Americans of the time? I'm unsure.

A peach can either symbolize youth and immortality, as well as innocence and virginity. I wonder what was intended in this context. Given the speakers consistency of self-awareness (particularly their hair), I would wager that they're concern is one regarding age.

This may support my initial idea of this poem's religious undertones/implication/themes.

Seems overly-conscientiousness is a bit of a theme with this speaker.

What does this imply? Perhaps it simply marks that the speaker is aware that their life can be weighed and calculated as simply as one would measure and weigh coffee grounds.

Reminds me of that song, "Turn! Turn! Turn!" by the Byrds/Bob Dylan. I believe the lyrics of the song were taken from the Bible-- I wonder if there's any kind of biblical connection for the line in the poem.

Fog which has caught the glow of the evening sunset, perhaps? Either that or mustard gas.

Fog has a sense of suspicion or doubt, doesn't it? It lingers and conceals-- only an ally to those who have use for its shroud.

"Half-deserted" provides a loose mental image-- I like it quite a bit. When I imagine something as "barren" or "deserted," it would be something with no sign of persisting life whatsoever. What, then, is a half-deserted street? Is it void of people, bust still bearing the smoldering embers of a once teeming walkway? Perhaps there are people, but only the most inactive layabouts and evening drunks.