FRANK MESSINA

 

 

Frank Messina was born

while I was doing belly rolls

on North Beach in San Francisco.

 

While I was belly dancing

at the Casbah and Baghdad nightclubs,

on Broadway,

just a few blocks from City Lights Bookstore,

that’s when Frank Messina was born.

 

I had a belly dance school,

called Harems Unlimited.

I taught at my flat on Nob Hill.

My livingroom-diningroom became a ballroom,

just by sliding the heavy wooden doors open.

That was my dance studio,

where I taught girls how to roll their bellies,

and many other movements.

Most belly dancers I met,

rolled their bellies inward and up.

I preferred to roll my belly out and down --

“Like giving birth”, I told my belly dance students.
That’s when Frank Messina was born.

 

Besides my steady jobs on Broadway,

I had side-gigs,

usually one-night performances

or weekend engagements that paid well.

I was rolling my belly all over the Bay area and beyond.

That’s when Frank Messina was born.

 

One agent sent me to far-flung towns,

like Modesta or Fresno,

even as far south as Indio

 just south of Palm Springs,

where they grow dates.

Dating there often culminated

in a Middle Eastern or Greek wedding –

nationalities that enjoy dates and olives,

couscous and baklava.

 

Weddings paid well,

joy-filled occasions.

The guests loved my “feed the Sultan grapes” act.

I chose a man from the audience

-- sometimes the groom –

to come to the stage.
I would sit him on a cushion on the floor,

then I lay on my side in front of him,

undulating horizontally,

while feeding him grapes.

 

Rolling my belly took me on many a journey.

I rolled my belly all the way across the

belly of the U.S.A. and back again,

wherever my agent sent me.

I was giving birth to my free spirit.

That was when Frank Messina was born!

 

 

copyright, Tara Sufiana

May 30, 2007

 

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