Tango

This dance,
as you move you can count it off
queer as clockwork
Left, right, left, pause,
all the while,
the bandeon puffs
like an ore train
climbing in the Andes

the room is humid
draped in red and black
the realm of death or
the infinite bliss
after the sweaty harmony of sex
your silk dress is slightly wrinkled
my hair still
gleaming of Brylcream and sweat
call it amor if you want
Si tu quieres,
Te quiero-Si

jajajajaja--oh such bitter laughter
I move like an elephant on ice skates
in my magic black leather shoes
my torso rigid as the stone
of the Teatro Colon
My arms like masts
draped with the guazy gossamer
of your dress or your body

It's so hot so humid
I can't remember which is which.
I can't think straight
as the habanero melody
forces me to make my feet glide
across the milonga floor.

I hold you and I feel of the bones of
Evita's spine
being gently guided by a push
from the fingers of my right hand
out of the Duarte Crypt of Recolecta Cemetary
an into the crowded night.

This dance, this tango
I chase it
It crushes me the way an
a little girl kills a fly.

Still I return
the music as addictive as sugar
my persistence a mix of desire
and desperation

call it amor if you want
Si tu quieres,
Te quiero-Si

Capitano Tedeschi

30

Tango Copyright August 24, 2011 by Jamie Jacks