A Brief Holiday

with the Jazz Heroine

Lady Day,

your arms are Harlem gutter paths

where living corpses

walk their dogs

and spill poison 

into your sewer drain,

delivering news of an early winter

to the wrinkled master

 

Your dizzy face spins

as needles lower

upon your black, record skin

 

Ella and the Count ride near

and the cold train travels

on thin rails,

hauling Chicago-bound box beds

soon to be occupied

by your cooling fans

 

copyright 1990, 2002, Frank Messina

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