I

I'LL DANCE WITH JACINTA THE REDHEAD

Oh yes, I will dance with her
broken and black jazz
rhythm. Europe for America.
We dance if the Ferris wheel spins,
and when the blackbirds fly up the neighbor lady's black poplar.

Because—it's the real thing—
each rite needs its chapel.
Right, Jacinta?
Oh, Jacinta, redhead, red-red-head
Rah-rah-red-reddish head.
How pretty, how pretty, oh, how pretty
they are, yes, they are, your two, two, two under the straps
of sweet lace Malinas's bone.
Oh, Jacinta,
good, greater good, supreme good.
We now have the blackbird up above,
and the little ass's Ferris wheel, spins.