![]() |
a poem about the power of the blues, where it came from and it's spell |
| Somebody once said that gospel and blues had a baby and named it Rock and Roll. I heard rock and roll is a very old afro-american term for steamy sex. Blues Power Go in the back door cus comin in front means bumping the snare. Getting a rise outta Rusty like teasin a mean snake. Pulled pork bar-be-que, beer from the barrel buck a bottle, ice cold. Tight jeans and boots, best date in town. This is a juke joint. Strangers stick out. A.J. starts pickin bout nine, music depends on his mood, could be his own ramblin blues Robert Johnson, Blind Lemon, Son House, it’ll be blues Don’t that beer, beans pork and bread of life go down good? Jasmine, a hot coffee siren in her trademark red dress, slit up the side, black garters. Honey brown breasts spillin out front, teasin all. She’s put away a six pack. Feelin no pain, she pulls up a cowboy otta place. She is over him like syrup. His eyes gonna jump out. Moving to the beat, pure sex, hot musky smell. She is pourin herself into him, he don’t even move, cause he’s lovin the blues. By Kathie Stehr |