Homage to the Empress of the Blues
Because there was a man somewhere in a candystripe silk shirt, gracile and
dangerous as a jaguar and because a woman moaned for him in a sixty-watt
gloom and mounred him Faithless Love Twotiming Love Oh Love Oh Careless
Aggravating Love,
She came out on the stage in yards of pearls, emerging like
a favorite scenic view, flashed her golden smile and sang.
Because grey laths began somehwere to show from underneath torn hurdygurdy
lithographs of dollfaced heaven; and because there were those who feared
alarming fists of snow on the door and those who feared the rito-squad of
statistics,
She came out on the stage in ostrich feathers, beaded satin
and shone the smile on us and sang.
Robert Hayden
(1913-1980)
When I started I wanted to write like Robert Hayden, I wanted to be Robert
Hayden, I wanted to wear Coke bottle thick glasses like Robert Hayden and
get dissed by the young Mojo Poets
Voice is like training wheels on a bike
At first you need em
But after a while
They're in the way
After a while
You gotta ride that bike
Without em
Your way
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