Lady in purple three of us like a pyramid three

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lady in purplethree of us like a pyramidthree friendsone laughone musicone flowered shawlknotted on each neckwe all saw him at the same time& he saw usi felt a quick thump in each one of usdidnt know what to dowe all wanted what waz comin our wayso we splitbut he found one& she loved himthe other two were tickled& spurned his advanceswhen the one who loved him waz somewhere elsehe wd come to her sayingyr friends love you very muchi have tried& they keep askin where are youshe smiledwonderin how long her friendswd hold outhe waz what they were lookin forhe bided his timehe waited til romance wanedthe three of us made up storiesbout usedta & cda been nicethe season waz dryno menno quickiesnot one dance or eyes unrelentinone day after anothercept for the one who loved himhe appeared irregularlyexpectin graciousness no matter whatshe cut fresh strawberriesher friends callt less frequently
went on hunts for passin fanciesshe cdnt figure out what waz happeninthen the roseshe left by his pillowshe found on her friends desk& there waz nothing to sayshe saidi wanna tell youhe's been after meall the timesays he's free & can explainwhat's happenin wit youis nothin to me& i dont wanna hurt youbut you know i need someone now& you knowhow wonderful he isher friend cdnt speak or crythey hugged & went to where he wazwit another womanhe said good-bye to onetol the other he wd callhe smiled a lotshe held her head on her lapthe lap of her sisters soakin up tearseach understandin how much love stood between themhow much love between themlove between themlove like sistersSharp music is heard, each ladydances as if catching a disease fromthe lady next to her, suddenlythey all freeze.lady in orangeever since i realized there waz someone callta colored girl an evil woman a bitch or a nagi been tryin not to be that & leave bitternessin somebody else's cup/ come to somebody to love mewithout deep & nasty smellin scald from lye or beinleft screamin in a street fulla lunatics/ whisperinslut bitch bitch niggah/ get outta here wit alla that/i didnt have any of that for you/ i brought you what joyi found & i found joy/ honest fingers round my face/ withdead musicians on 78's from cuba/ or live musicians on fivedollar lp's from chicago/ where i have never been/ & i lovewillie colon & arsenio rodriquez/ especially cuz i can makethe music loud enuf/ so there is no me but dance/ & wheni can dance like that/ there's nothin cd hurt me/ buti get tired & i haveta come offa the floor & then there'sthat woman who hurt you/ who you left/ three or four times/& just went back/ after you put my heart in the bottom of
yr shoe/ you just walked back to where you hurt/ & i didnthave nothin/ so i went to where somebody had somethin for me/but he waznt you/ & i waz on the way back from her housein the bottom of yr shoe/ so this is not a love poem/ cuz thereare only memorial albums available/ & even charlie minguswanted desperately to be a pimp/ & i wont be able to see eddie

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Term
Fall
Professor
FREY
Tags
Electron, Toussaint Louverture, Toussaint Jones, I m Not Dead, willie colon

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