Despite admitting her “musical vocabulary is limited to simian gestures, deep nods, and stink-face grimaces,” poet Jennifer Knox lists theÂ music she’d take with her to a desert island.
Full disclosure: despite my seven-year stint as a third-chair clarinetist, my musical vocabulary is limited to simian gestures, deep nods, and stink-face grimaces. No doubt, if I could describe, in proper terms, how music does what it does, I would be a phenomenally wealthy woman.
Mississippi John Hurt,Â The Library of Congress Recordings
The silveriest guitar and plumiest voice of all the bluesmen. He can be dirtyâ€”like in “Funky Butt” (“I thought I heard somebody say/she got a funky butt, stinky butt, take it away”)â€”but pragmatically so. A bald woman’s still a woman, after all, and worthy of loveâ€”not a subject for ridicule. His lust is wry: “Candy man’s stick don’t melt away/It just gets better, so the ladies say.” And “Let the Mermaids Flirt with Me” is sure to have birds from islands around flocking in for an earful.
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Jennifer L. Knox’s latest book of poems, The Mystery of the Hidden Driveway, is available from Bloof Books. Her poems have appeared in The New Yorker, American Poetry Review,and four times in The Best American Poetry series. She’s at work on her first novel.