Sunday, March 20, 2016

Patti Masterman

Reading A Latin American Author

And I started to read some of his poetry
and then I found that there was a little bit of
a fandango, getting going in my hips
then when I had read some more of him,
my breasts began to sway in rhythm,
to a sort of metered mambo
and when I had read a few more lines
my legs were straining toward farruca,
although it seemed that my derriere
was aiming more for flamenco,
while my whole body was in a violent rage
for tango

And then suddenly, it was time
to make dinner,
so I had to stop reading him
and content myself doing matachin
on some habanera peppers
and then doing a salsa jig
all around the table

And after a small cockroach appeared,
drawn in by the savory smells,
I did a quick paso-doble return,
in perfect time
upon his whiskers.
Patti Masterman :

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