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Poetry

The day I became “baby”

March 6, 2005
iranian.com

The day I became “baby.”
It was a pre-pubescent spring sunrise in early February and I had a visitor.
Mom had never quite seen her so close. We had came home in the middle of one of those Friday nights and

Saturday morning
Plaid and 2 layers of feathers kept the addiction snuggled
tight underneath the sheets until time for brand names.
I wanted to go away somewhere blue and gray, where tropicalities and pacifics don’t matter, somewhere where the French quarter alley ways,
..................................................Dim smoked saloons and bourbon
..................................................Jazz
Compelled you to ........smoke freshly clipped Cuban Cigars
Couldn’t be the only thing keeping you from congesting your cool.

I fought clear the thought and a bandit said: “you will love me
..................................................................You will love me
.............................////////////////.................You will love me”
And she came out .......towel overlaying the very Algerian roots to which I’d hung my

Brash hip hop Bass for -- the day I became “baby.”
Some things don’t need a soul. It was settled.

February 5th, 2005

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