Tuesday, May 3, 2011
A Thought, Vogue, Style: Odilia's Harlem
As I listen to Aretha Franklin,
“Spanish Harlem,” and remember those days
in La Habana when Odilia called
and woke me up before I’d left the dais.
“Be here in half an hour. Room 19”
We could sense a different way of doing
things with confidence for lover’s nothings.
Did I have like my Lady Oh, a way
to describe a Thought, a Vogue, a Style,
she’d know its weakest point and errors. IF
there could be a way to rid ourselves more
and more of the degradation of Slaves.
“I refuse to work where I can’t be WHO
I am, Spanish Harlem Reprised.” GENIUS.
Las CHicas in Harlem true are Steady.
I recall it well when I was there, LOW,
A Lowrider White as a wedding Dress.
I’d like to get married once (twice) a Day,
and linger in chosen childlessness.
And for all the little girls out there grown
Smarter with each complication, and prone.
She’s making something so incredible
of me. She is the muse of the Sacred
Art of Woman helping Woman. “Edith,
you are so ….I see why you’re a writer.
And how being the way you are is bad
for you but works in literature.” AGAIN,
if it weren’t for Odilia now, Pains
Pains como los de Vallejo, ay de mí.
When I complained, she knew what knowing was.
A retort to stop the downward plunge of THOUGHT.
“I’m surprised when my friends have these nervous
Breakdowns…If it were cancer, she’d fight it.”
Finer points of being Ghetto-untouched,
Un-squandered, un-colonized, with Odilia.
No sentiment belongs to the gutters.
“I jogged past the dead, the cracked-out, BRUTAL.
Still, there is a part of Harlem in every layer:
As justice grows in its elusiveness,
It also becomes more attainable.
My thesis to Odilia and her Verse:
She knows all of the answers by her ART.This Sonnet is a Fictional Work. Any perceived, apparent, or implied relationship to entities or persons is coincidental.