the L in leroi jones

 

 

 

Although I should have,

after standing in the largest window of the house

as instructed by the drag queens, I found so little

joy in moon references.

 

Even grew angry at the revolutionaries

who (imagine me holding my arms by my sides)

dared me to think out loud, the love

poems of burden

 

what I would say if I could touch you

with any other thing than a penis or a glove.

Just wanted to put into words, then the

obligatory scowl. I cling to you

like Egypt clings to red seas:

 

The sweet crackle of the dystrophic, bottom fauna.

The jitney that carries the soul past the Jews downtown

on Broadway. The intellectual property of a single

singlet of Siswati, of a 60's calling to f*g communism,

me and Baldwin smiling in the most hypothetical,

dashiki embrace of our own two

ugly selves.

 

But it never was jazz enough. Not Sonny Rollins enough

to wait until your hair is white as dead begonias

before finding the right words, like the gap a

good tongue finds from the gold tooth you treasured.

Missing.

 

That evening I danced around the amputated

toes of my father. Yes, the ones they took in 95

when he whispered to me that "his boogie-woogie

days were over". Can you believe it,

kept quiet all this time

in the loud solution of

exigent, violet

vinegar.

Reviews

[W.k.kortas]

There are a ton of (though judiciously used and placed) references to Jones' time and place (and has there ever been a better piece of phrasing than "dashiki embrace"?) but it's certainly no period piece--indeed, it's a downright tour de force bordering on the picaresque. Awfully impressive work.

[Marie Anzalone]

and just when we think we have pinned you down as something or other, you pull a rabbit out of your hat. I love the way you fling little interjections as matter of factly as telling us, as a lesser poet might- "well it snowed last night and I went out to a gay bar and let me tell you about it." Your mastery is in the place, the moment, the fragment. The glimpse of detail... the showing, not the telling.

and now I TOTALLY want/need to visit you in your home. and ask you for a slow dance... with that jar in the middle of the floor because well damn... there are some experiences a gal just needs to have.

[Rob Santana]

I love this!!! Very unique and eccentric. You have an artistic way with words.

[writing mojo]

the influence is palpable and ode lathering with hard pat's on the back..leaving me choked up in with this piece...great work dana