Of all the city’s streets
there is one
the name of which
I cannot now recall,
the street where I encountered
that languid mulatta beauty,
her cornflower dress
the emblem of summer;
the taste of her,
the taste of wine
spices and licorice:
hidden amongst life’s ephemera
is a humid verandah evening
lit by a glimmering radio dial,
its lyrical stream wrapping
the cloying air with
a faded era and style,
of Ella Fitzgerald and Ray Charles
to which I swayed and lost myself
with her in the taste of wine,
spices and licorice,
and in the morning
I was found
on that street
the name of which
I never knew
Comment added to “Inconsequential” on The Writers’ Circle
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louis kasatkin
Message flagged Tuesday, 21 August 2012, 5:24
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The article:
Inconsequential by louis kasatkin
The comment (by kelly bella):
Hmmmmmmmmmm. I could roll in the deliciousness of these verses. Sensual without saying a raw word. Sensual in the sense of taste and feel and sight and sound. Humid. Languid. Cloying. Takes me back to southern nights so sweaty. Absolutely sensational 😉 .
the name of the street is deliberately suppressed, but that is what it is all about- inconsequential !