(Miles and Betty Davis: Lost Transcript from the Filles de Kilimanjaro Album Notes)Range(Reign)
Betty: Runner You-
run in the trine of a curtsy, up the miniature ladders beamed into obscene nylons.
I find you on the fire escape looking deliberate with some Rapunzel blond neighbor of ours
...and even still, I love the way you hold your head, high sort of, and a bit to one side
Highlights your finger wave, how you wave to me from out there with only your fingers, leaving the palm on its scheduled decrease/symbolism, mercy or stunt, we become equal and therefore rivals
Suspense enters the phony distance between us like a circus pressed against a jury
I forgive you by disappearing and the circus collapses...
And my hands flew up too, How the sudden romance of a cruel error... It was romantic to watch you with her in scam privacy, our first candid exchange in years
It's an accomplishment you manage to accent with pride though it diminishes you-- My mind flashes to the time I found you shopping for lottery tickets. With fiendish, whispered shouting and a stride so plunging it's invisible/desperation like money and slander, which spread at the pace of your interest... Messenger, Brilliant Hypocrite, have you been seduced by the race, into letting your legs ignore the paisley footprints of princes in the ghetto, and
so that they reach
Here comes/here goes, which is to say, so that they come to seem interchangeable and better secrets that way...
During a riot: loot water and diapers/ cigarettes and ice: idols
Did you hear the one about the brother who ran into the fire to rescue his daughter's favorite... Ma Rainey was playing from a Marshall law megaphone nearby and the newsman blames the riddling starkness of her chant
He lived, He didn't just survive
Wearing my most shredded stockings, high tops and a neon midriff, I set out to flaunt my new assimilation to your having a mistress, in all the places I find repugnant: supermarkets, nouveau riche mansions, army bases, freeways - I want to be blamed for this I am rewarded - deputies, suitors, muscular cars, a career:
Your regret is nearly erotic and since I've forgotten how to shrug, I cast it across my drive like dry wind it settles in my eyes and turns a crisp red color of a wet July in the hemisphere, cover for the virgin lion,
wanna trade Miles: burdens-
are so pretty, they trip over themselves, are so pretty and huddled on my heart it needs them
