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Open Poetry #40
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Robert Jordan
Member
since 2007-02-07
Posts 392
Philadelphia Pa USA

0 posted 2007-07-13 10:52 PM


Father John christen’s Angelo
a steamy August Sunday after Mass
at Saint Michael’s Church.  

Everyone is there.  

Felix’s sister Marika
is the child’s God Mother,
while Wawa is the God Father.

Joan, Lavonia, and Madame Queen
are sitting in the first row,
with Madam Queen dabbing away
at her tears.  

Charlie is there sitting next to Butch,
who is wearing his trademark
dirty pullover with the hole
at his belly button.  

Ralph, Fred, and I
are kind of sitting in the second row.  
Bobo is grouchy and threatening as ever,
he’s sitting alone back behind me.  
It’s a nice quiet ceremony,
very proper and all.

We all troop on over to Felix’s place
for our own special reception.  
It’s catered by Mel’s Cheese Steak Palace
from down on Girard Avenue.

Father John decides
it’s time for him to go.  
He blesses everyone,
tells them:
“Have fun kids.”
and leaves.

Felix sits in a chair like a potentate,
He’s holding Angelo in his lap.
He hollers out—“Okay, all you hounds,
here’s something you’ll never see again”.  

He claps his hands,
and his sister Marika
the God Mother, runs out
wearing nothing but
a fancy diamond studded g-string
and a tiny wire strap
with little gold cymbals
covering her breasts.  

Her dark olive skin flows tight
over her thin, muscular frame.  

She prostrates herself at Felix’s feet,
while Wawa starts beating a drum.  

Felix snaps his fingers,
and Marika jumps to her feet,
begins a slow dance
in the middle of the floor.  

After a few minutes of slow dancing,
the pace of the drum beats picks up.  
Marika dances faster, and faster.  

Now she’s like a whirling dervish
in the middle of the floor.  
She’s working her body
all around the room, bending,
and undulating into
seemingly impossible positions.  

She just dances and dances,
keeping time with brass slave bracelets
on her wrists.  

Her long black hair is flying and swirling
about her shoulders.  

She begins to pant,
her mouth open,
she is covered with sweat,
gleaming in the lights
surrounding her.  

On and on she dances,
her chest heaving,
guttural sounds
coming from her throat.  

After ten minutes,
she lays panting at Felix’s feet.  
He snaps his fingers again,
gives her a little kick.  

She gives a loud wail,
jumps to her feet.  

Now she is totally exhausted,
her legs are becoming wobbly,
and yet the drum goes even faster.  
She is moaning and crying
from exhaustion,
tears are streaming down her face.  
Her dry tongue is hanging
out of her mouth.  

Finally,
she gives a heart-rending cry,
and falls like dead weight
at Felix’s feet.  
Her ribs moving in and out
as she pants and cries.

She reaches out her hand to Angelo,
who takes one of his aunts fingers,
and holds it.  

Felix reaches down,
picks Marika up in his arms.
He kisses her, and thanks her.
He carries her up to a bedroom,
where she can get dressed.  

Bobby

© Copyright 2007 Robert E. Jordan - All Rights Reserved
Artic Wind
Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 8080
Realm of Supernatural
1 posted 2007-10-21 11:06 AM


nice poem

i liked it

ARCTIC WIND

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