poetry and prose
A Lean In Close
In-between those growing-up
years, those kisses deep
as a double bass,
Bobby Darin pours from
the jukebox. He’s a
dark language I don’t understand.
Sounds malicious. Thirsty
words soft as a cotton
saxophone.
It’s an over-salted melody,
and Mac the Knife plays on.
Written to prompt at dVerse Poets Quadrille #131: 44 words (sans title) including the word ‘juke’, Shared with #APoemADay on Twitter ©Misky 2021 Photo by Tom Grove on Unsplash
Hello! I was eating a handful of salted cashews, and that phrase just fell on my lap.
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Oooh, this is extremely vivid and vibrant in imagery. ❤
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That song is still one of my favourite.
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Thanks, Brian, and lovely to see you again.
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Oh, love the cotton saxaphone and the over-salted melody. I can imagine gazing into the jukebox now. Miss those days.
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Thanks so much. It’s fun to think how every table had its own music, and everyone’s preferences clashed with the next table.
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Ah, ” Mack the Knife”! I’d forgotten how much I loved that song. This challenge has been great fun.
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It was fun, wasn’t it!
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Smoooooth. Well done Misky!
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I never did like that song. Smiles. But I LOVE your grey wolf!
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Aside from the over salted melody, I love: He’s a
dark language I don’t understand.
Thanks for joining us.
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Always a pleasure to join in, Grace.
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Thanks very much.
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Honey on the mind. Beautiful!
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I just went out to a lyrics site to see what the song actually says and it is chilling! Bobby Darin always gave me a creep vibe and now solid corroborating evidence to go with the vibe! Well-written poem, Misky.
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You’re very welcome.
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Many thanks for reading it.
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Brill!
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Lovely imagery!
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Thanks very much!
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Thanks!
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Yes. I liked that. Right songs, too.
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But when you say Mack the Knife I think about Lotte Lenya…
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Oh, those wicked shoes!
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Thanks!
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It's Still Life 
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