The Ballade of Franz Lizst (by Ana)

You, long fingers’ miracle:
the countess must have smiled
peering from atop her secretaire.
Masterly chiseled carpals, meta-
carpals perfectly bound a
harmony of long phalanges
translated by the keys, the piano
you play at her side, by the source.

The princess also knew.
when caught by the spell
the love dream, that
the reward is you,
long fingers’ [...]

The Amy Winehouse Riff

She pinches the hem,
crushed satin tacked
secured with a single
Gordian knot,
a safeguard that fumbled
stitches won’t unravel
and reveal
that black line drawn
with kohl;
some vain attempt
to sexualise this naïve form,
this pretence that reluctantly
demands attention.
She pulls it, pinches,
drags it up revealing
porcelain skin and
catholic guilts
as the drummer
teases and rolls
her slight dip,
head bowed with her
curtsey in servitude.

Uncertain Time.

Some fluid jazz drifts out to the balcony
where he puts his arm around me
these is uncertain times, boy,
so we’ll revert to fundamental principles
and trust our instincts and he squeezes me
and breathes
you just sit there and play
as though in some performance of art
tatum if you can haha
I’ll go find a drummer she laughs
F., leave the pianoplayer [...]