---

 

This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “Seahorse” Down in the Dirt, v194 (the 4/22 Issue) Order the paperback book:

Order this writing that appears in the one-of-a-kind anthology The Ice that Was the Down in the Dirt Jan.-April 2022 issues collection book		get the 420 page Jan.-April 2022 Down in the Dirt 6" x 9" ISBN# perfect-bound paperback book:

Order this writing in the book the 2023 poetry review date book (the 2023 poetry collection (& art) weekly paperback book)		get the 146-page poetry & art weekly planner as a 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Between Jazz and the Blues

Victoria Elizabeth Ruwi

Jazz mingling the blues quenched me
sometime after his death, led to
a niche with war vets, at ease.

I drank French connections,
my sweet tooth pacified by amaretto,
my ego nursed by never paying.

Grooving with Ed to Miles, Sade, Dizzy,
sashaying with Jeff to Aretha, Duke, Lady,
or B.B. King, I’d scat, scat, scat like Ella.

Once in Holland or Switzerland
(or were we then in Germany?)
a man moved me with his lone dancing:

I box danced with him ‘til his boyfriend
eased me aside and I left hungry.
Ah yes, we were floating on the Rhine

perhaps at the Down By The Riverside.
Steam bait me to cross that arched stone
bridge for thick fries in paper cones,

bade me to break my tradition
of ketchup—order them European style.
Warm fries slithered down my throat

while veteran voices wrangled in bass:
“Who eats fries at four in the morning?”
“What’s this mayo on fries thing?”

Still spinning from life after death,
I perched on ancient cobblestone,
surging with my need to make choices.

Copyright of written pieces remain with the author, who has allowed it to be shown through Scars Publications and Design.Web site © Scars Publications and Design. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.

Problems with this page? Then deal with it...