Tuesday, April 02, 2013

April & Poetry 3

Paolo and I never agree.  He insistin’ Nina Simone’s cover of “See-line Woman” tops my wail and moan.  I differ; hey, the way Feist do it measures up some.  Paolo gets to turning red, black, and green.  Gets to so he ready to throw his bile in a pile.  Paolo gets me up to confess his hump number ain’t much noise, not like music that hurts.  My woman walk in like piano solo stuck in her hips.  Good reason her name Inspiration.  Whew!  She wreck my days!  Then his lady walk up; she called Silence.  So of curse we gotta get up to assessing the She-ass.  Ugly start when Paolo kicks the trap drum down the fire escape.

(This post written after memorizing Yusef Komunyakaa’s “The Music That Hurts.") 

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