Title Page

The Professionals

Lightning Storm Watching Dancers in a Nightclub

When We Dance Salsa 

Mary's R&B

IT

salsa leader

Hiphop lyw - To the Boys that Beat

A day in bed

my dress

lywlyw's delcaration of independence

by lyw

mary's R&B

I

Mary learned to say thank you, I love you, I’m sorry

She fills each empty glass with squeezed and twisted, pitted fruit

Serves each glass over the busy countertop

Thank you

I love you

So suddenly moving, stretching

clear and cool

inside the hot, parched body

Before Mary goes home at night

She cleans up, closes up, turns out the lights

Locks up

Keeps the hat down low

The deposit bag is close to her body and guess who’d like to know?

Somebody’s always waiting in that shadow

And Mary kicks his ass and goes on home

Makes her supper, calls her friends

Goes to the clubs, asks the lady in red if she needs her ass kicked too?

In bed by three

Next day comes, and she doesn’t bring up the morning

late for the afternoon English class

and working again by evening

She says thank you, I love you, I’m sorry

II

Mary learned to say thank you, most sincerely, I’m sorry

Fills white letterhead and fiber-optic lines with black type fonts

Thank you

Most sincerely

Sorry

Templates

Printed and saved on disk

Saves, I love you, like a bank deposit

Hides I love you like a lace teddy

Under the business suit

Under the just-white-shirt

And when finally home, she tries the words

Strange on her dry, lipstick mouth

The delicate fermentation of I love you

Makes a heady red wine.

Perfect for dinner

Even better with a lover.

Mary makes sticky notes to remember

The next day’s deposit and withdrawal

Lest I love you become lost in white letterhead battles.  

III

Mary learns to sing

I love you, thank you, I'm sorry

like tiny pieces of God, a god, a spirit

soft, soft and receiving, giving

against hard bodies

one voice sings with ten thousand voices heard

one voice echoes the ten thousand voices heard

each new song embedded on a r & b harmonic pad

vibrating towards the cosmic egg of sunny-side rhythm over blues.

 © lyw