Jersey Music

Jersey Music
by Aileen Bassis
It’s the stopping
   and the starting
of beats
   that trace the pattern
like a road map
   in my auto glove compartment
creased with pieces torn like horn
   bleats jumping up again
in rhythm crying
        bounce and roll.
Hold my hand cause we’re slipping
   out cross the avenue
   tracing spins on pizza pies
and donut holes and soda cans
    around the streets
 where commuters rush in streaks
    and stops to a careening shout
from that hot licked Jersey girl
   with bold big hips scooping proud
right down to rude thighs bulging a
   diamond dance through fishnet
tights.  The mike is on, the
   amp screams a whine, she
        hits every note around.