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SONG FOR A (VERSION OF)
PICASSO'S BLUE LADY
your tongue
skimming smooth skin,
navel, parts of me
detached strewn
reassembled Picasso's blue
lady
assymetrical eye
assymetrical breast,
no not the tang of salt,
but the tongue,
the rhythm of fifties'
radio, heart pillowed,
a little Elvis, young,
a little schmaltz,
a blue note extended on and on,
the blue lady sings for you, keens
your going not hearing the notes she hears--
blue, bony, blooded man,
listen to the r&b
quadroons beckoned moonlit
love
no not the tang, not the notes,
but the slow seep onto blue
blue sheets, salt of tears,
the salt the salt the salt
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CHILDREN BEFORE THE DANSE MACABRE
The children remove their legs before the dance
begins. They cannot skip; instead they roll
veterans of family wars across the expanse
of playgrounds; their small wheeled carts prance
in front of strangers. They shoot marbles,
the children who remove their legs before the dance,
they play for keeps, the aggie, the blue glance.
They hear their names called by oracles,
veterans of family wars across time and space.
They speak to silent, invisible friends
and refuse to count their hardwon treasure,
children who remove their legs before the dance
.
They're called pretty ones, dappled apples chance
could not have wrought, eyes of the heart,
veterans of family wars across wasteland.
They use their arms to wheel about, advance
and then retreat. They guard residual purity.
They're veterans of wars of generations;
these children remove their legs before the dance
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DIVA AT RAINBOW'S END
Follow the yellow brick road
to where monkey on your back
plucks scarecrow up and flings
her brain, heart, courage, home
to four corners of Oz,
little girl heels, little girl,
how does your musical garden?
With silver red white
all those glistening dolls
for up with the monkey
down, down, down, diva
scattered like burned straw
over poppy fields
that never bring sweet dreams
only a clear high keen silenced
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