Saturday, November 21, 2015

Pearl & Draper with Michael Jackson

*Written in early 2011 when a morning jogger happened to lean against my Jeep


Steps clod rhythmically, keeping time mid-morning in La Jolla
Earbud lines dance from bicep to ear drum, bouncing in tempo

Jacko croons out of the Jeep’s speakers,
I can’t help it if I wanted to, I wouldn’t help it even if I could, I can’t help it,…
blasting into the near-perfectly chilled breeze

Stopping to adjust this or that article of runner’s clothing beside the lowered window, her music is overwhelmed by mine

Long fingers reach for her waist, and her head arches back slowly
Her left arm contracts upwardly
She sways to the beat, holding herself while unknowingly putting on a show for me

She is the loneliest samba dancer in the world, caught in Jacko’s sublime web

And I seize the scene, as I am wont to do at times
I juxtapose her motions and the day’s light in cinematography – my very own feature

To break the spell, and to have a bit of fun, I pause Track 8 of the masterpiece that is the album Off the Wall – Quincy Jones be damned

Here is what I know before I change my iPod’s function: I know she’ll become subject for a couplet, and I wish to make the experience I am having her experience too

… and I am so glad I found you … STOP – Jacko silenced for the art of my moment

Her head whips forward, as if she were a passenger on a heavenly trolley and it hit an animal

I wait

The hand previously holding her waist now gropes for my passenger’s door, just above the hidden window

She leans in, smiling

Not a spoken word passes between us

I press play, returning Jacko to his number one fan, returning her tribal sensuality to me

She embellishes her moves ever so, continuing where she left off, enjoying my appreciation, enjoying her being a woman and my being a man capable of noticing

Nothing more

It’s quiet, like a lie; loudly proclaimed by her hips, like a Confederate soldier’s yell

Jacko fades, ending at the four minute and twenty ninth second mark

Two taps on the Jeep’s roof signal she’s full, and off to finish her run

And I mean it.


Craig Edward Kelso is a felon, father, husband, controversialist. He lives in Southern California with his adorable family.

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