A Poem from Janet Cannon's
|
street walker
|
tessie walks the video taped
route of kit carson road
she walks truncated with the
obsolescence of her prime
her hips of sweet roll grace
sway from east to west
with an historic recollection
of sweet indulgences that have
lingered past their time painted
desert face faded with age like
a gouache painting blanched
by the sun faded face maps
the poignant pain of her lost
lovers lividly and her flaming
red headed hot tipped locks
curled with the hast night's protest
hang on her gypsy shoulders
limply recalling the resilience
of youthful aspirations her
rhythmic moving feet are as
constant as the yellow blinking light
north of town her street walking
jaunt as common as the meandering
dirt roads about the village and
her piece of the people's picture
puzzle of taos is a piece/a part
of the whole picture that we'd
definitely miss if she weren't here
|
Poem by Janet Cannon
|
|
Previously published in
The Last Night in New York
A chapbook by Janet Cannon
Homeward Press
Berkeley, CA
|
|
|
