Hot Poem

Discussion in 'Writing' started by nakedemperor, May 12, 2005.

  1. nakedemperor
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    nakedemperor Senior Member

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    My Tennessee Williams baby doll
    on a hot cast iron fire escape, hot as
    glass as a moldable solid;
    leaning over the rail, all in white
    because love is borne of sweat and fire escapes
    and cast iron boundaries:

    a white-gloved touch; always
    a thin veil of satin between us (holy palmers).
    But I have the Cajun fire in my belly
    and saints have lips, parted, moistened
    to accept life's garlic and gumbo.

    STELLA beneath the surface STELLA;
    Ella, the patron saint of hot
    night and day
    night and day


    Mack the Knife, my delirious hindbrain,
    hiding out in fevered dreams:
    sating himself on her while she sleeps
    while I sleep.
    Yeah, St. Ella, you dig?

    And the A-Train is my favorite because
    the A-Train is my train;
    Between 59 and 125 in August
    the tunneled heat brings life back to Harlem;
    and Ella's so hot the heat sits back
    and listens with the rest, the Apollo;
    she's making the Sun God sweat.

    Watching a lady sweat wasn't ever so hot.
    Oh, lady be good, Watching a lady sweat wasn't ever so hot.
     
    • Thank You! Thank You! x 1
  2. no1tovote4
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    no1tovote4 VIP Member

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    excellent
     

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