You're My Thrill

Poem by Rocco Valentini

Artwork Sourced From Pinterest. Artist: Unknown

You’re My Thrill

by Antonio Rocco S. (Rocco Valentini)

Jazz begins with a rhythm
And becomes an improvisation.
Jazz is proof
That order can fall in love with chaos.

“You’re my thrill…”

She’s sitting in her office,
Leaning back in her chair,
Stilettos propped on her desk.
She has two magnums on her desk:
One’s a .44 she keeps loaded.
The other’s a bottle;
It keeps her loaded.
I stand in her doorway,
And she tells me,
“It’s pointless to try drowning your sorrows
In a river of whiskey;
They’ll just learn to swim.”

“You do something to me…”

A cigarette dangles
From the corner of her mouth.
Her red lipstick matches the neon sign
Bleeding through the blinds.
She crooks her finger, and I come in.
She tells me about her troubles,
Leaning in close.
Her breath is hot on my ear,
But her words are cold.
Life has thrown her punches,
But she’s no coward;
The only thing that runs is her nylons.

“You send chills right through me…”

She’s a musician at the local nightclub.
She’s still wearing her dress from tonight’s performance,
And if all goes well for me,
She’ll still be wearing it tomorrow morning.
Her body type?
An hourglass with a few extra minutes.
And I certainly don’t mind the wait.
I like my women
The way I like my coffee and cigarettes:
Black and full-bodied.
My fingers long to dance across her white blouse
Like a pianist over ivory keys.

“When I look at you, ’cause you’re my thrill…”

Love begins with a rhythm
And becomes an improvisation.
Love is proof
That the heart has its own sheet music.

Footnote: Lyrics in quotation sourced from “You’re My Thrill” by Billie Holiday.