song shuffle

Five Songs

 I am an American woman, but here,

here in this city that gave us jazz and

gumbo and Tennessee Williams, I do not

fly a free bird. Memory can clip angel wings.


Willy does the hand jive on every corner,

hucksters and buskers hustle for quarters, and

women with chains heavier than mine offer a

taste of paradise in the house of the rising sun.


You think you can be a visitor in my life

but you don't know how difficult that may be.

The chains I wear, made of seaweed, will tighten

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