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Click hereEven the dusty lobby palms looked limp
I filled a bucket from the ice machine
then panted
two floors up
to Sophie’s room
Beneath the ceiling fan
she sat cross-legged
on the stone-cool floor
in that purple darkness
between purgatory and Mtv
wearing only panties in the August heat
“Where’s the sound?” I asked
“Off
I hate hip-hop
but love to watch
the black girls bop”
I slid a cube
between the cotton and her skin
gently pushed it further in
and watched her flicker
blue in cathode glow
laid back and puddling on the floor
She stopped me halfway through
“Just a minute – wait - I love to watch this song”
::
a character in one of your poems or stories? I seem to recall the name. It's a very good poem. I'd make some edits, but I always want to edit.
is just awesome. I could quibble about line breaks--I hate one word lines--but that would be mere fussiness. This is a really good poem. Take it elsewhere. Now.
This is so hot, I'm wondering how the ice cubes survived long enough to be written about.
First, thank you for brightening my day with this lovely piece. Your poem has been mentioned on the new poems thread.