CLEOPATRA’S OIL

 

 

 

 

 

That black 33 1/3

circled the life of song

spinning it out

in round of rounds

dark shiny onyx

like Alabama nights

pushed a sound of

scratch and horns

and bass with drums

forming a jumpy beat

as the man on ivories

jams the air

choking out a new sound

free of starch

alive to feet and hands

rubbing in the jazz

like Cleopatra’s oil

smoother than glass

with aroma

that no one

escapes.

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