We watch them gigin the pit
playing funky jazz licks
in modal timbres
makes me squirm.
I say
let's blow this joint
when this babe be-bops from behind
hands in my hair
says we can really groove.
Flattered
I dance through the night
till light
cuts a ray
through her ceramic face
cracking beauty
into puzzle fragments.
Flaking
she starts to sing the blues.
