Poem of the Day. Sandra Beasley

Redazione Italia. May 24, 2016

You were You
dreamt we were in your favorite bar:
You were you, I was the
I played Sam Cooke for you,
but you didn’t look over

I wanted to dance. I
wanted a scotch.
I wanted you to take your hand off of her.

You were wearing your
best smile
and the shirt that makes your eyes green.
If you had
asked, I’d have told you
her hair looked like plastic.
then, my mouth was plastic.

I weighed 300 pounds.
glittered like 1972.

A man tried to seduce me
with quarters
but I could hear his truck outside,
running. I was loyal to you.

I played Aretha, Marvin,
the Reverend Al.
You kissed her all the way out the door.

Later, I tried to make my
own music,
humming one circuit against the other,
running the
needle up and down.

The bubbles in my blood
were singing.
In the morning, they came to repair me.