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Take the Socks Out of Your Bra and Be Patient(Ann Landers headline, Chicago Sun-Times 1 August 1981) | listen |
I
Eastbound on Morse Avenue
the breeze rustling her skirt
brushed cotton flowers against bare thighs
the sun hot on her shoulders
(So little hips to swing! So she swings ‘em just a little)
“Hey Slim, why you movin’ so fast?”
Eyes to ground, hands fumble
into side pockets, counting change -
just enough for, let’s see
a half-gallon of milk
a loaf of bread, and
a box of Kotex.
II
Her piano teacher was always patient;
maybe she was just stupid.
“It’s more like this,” he’d say
his fingers taking over the keyboard.
But it was useless,
the way the back hairs on his forearms
curled just so;
it was distracting.
The first time “Moonlight Sonata”
made any sense to her at all
was when she came home
mad as hell
and played it over and over
real fast.
It made so much noise, and
had so many fingering mistakes
that she had to slow ‘way down --
and suddenly the rhythm
of the waves and the moonlight
rose up to kiss her
on her forehead.
III
If she’s always walking into walls
and dropping things
why does her Dad always call her
my little Cyd Cherisse?
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