of spit and sex and pluck.
only a curve so jigged
would milk the nights’ dew
send honey-tongued swingers swinging
It could only be jazz.
mortally, anyway, called it
and mad to all but the madmen
and those who paint with oil,
for players the same
‘s an insatiable want
to keep thick things
off the ground.
Author Bio:
Alexandra Honaker is the literary enigma of musicians and gourmands. The singularity of musical expression, its divinity and the dedication of those who live for craft, has greatly influenced her creative process. She strives to write toward the condition of music—close to truth and God. She is an autodidact of literature and feminist theory, concentrating on erotic feminism. A very old twenty, she is coasting in Hometown, MT working on her first novel