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Jazz Chick

 Music from her breast, vibrating
Soundseared into burnished velvet.
Silent hips deceiving fools.
Rivulets of trickling ecstacy From the alabaster pools of Jazz Where music cools hot souls.
Eyes more articulately silent Than Medusa's thousand tongues.
A bridge of eyes, consenting smiles reveal her presence singing Of cool remembrance, happy balls Wrapped in swinging Jazz Her music.

by Bob Kaufman
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