Melodious Thunk (In the voice of Nellie Monk)

I learned the city's songs with my spine, with my hips.
The crush of bodies in the subway, an endless line of dance partners.

We moved to the low rumble of trains burrowing beneath the concrete.
We jumped at the angry horn blasts of gypsy cabs.

We sang along to the metrical chants of street corner vendors,
We spun in the shrill wail of police sirens.

In Florida, every step I took was a sin.
Every mile of the state was a dead nigger's grave.

In New York, I kicked up my heels shamelessly.
Its music was my Holy Ghost.

When Mama wanted me home, I listened to the city from my window.
I caught basketball games on the blacktop court; the fistfights were my first ballets.

Black- and brown-skinned boys artfully contorting themselves into freedom—
I sometimes sneaked out to watch, blushed at the boys' shameless grunts.

You found me in this maze of dark, kinetic bodies.
You introduced yourself, and I marveled at your name.

I knew you were a musician right off—
You made a riff of my pulse when you touched my arm.

Your fingers played over my skin,
Loosed sapphire F notes from my throbbing cleft.

Your confessions strew the bass beat of my heart.
You made jazz of us right there—something never played before.

©Michelle R. Smith 2002-2008