Cordellia

smokes rises
from ruby red
lipstick covered
cigarettes
swirling in the summer
breeze
dancing the blues
putting form to
billie holiday
as she sings the
night and conjures
the pain
that punishes so
good
oh, cordellia
my sweet chocolate
mamma
old
swollen from
the broken veins
ankles
knarled
like bark
she says
“put it here”
lifting her sagging
breast
“it’s the only place
left, baby”
in the syringe
air bubbles
struggle to the
top
“here you go”
pushing deep
past the tracks
of a thousand times
before
the music takes over
her head rolls
back
billie makes us backup
singers
as I slide into the
warmth
she says
“he ain’t never comin’
back, is he, johnny?”
I can only nod

J. Masuda © 2004
art
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