Joan Armatrading corners Tracy Chapman at a juke joint

Poetry by Jalynn Harris

Listen, I’m the man in the fast car
going 88 on an open road with your girl

Meshell, the First Lady, speeding Black
to the past. Bessie Smith swings blues

buffet. Ma Rainey is strapped
with gold coins and ostrich plumes,

moaning for my proof. Every night
a tent show whooping gold guitar

percussing we come electric
on the stage. Tracy, lock me in

your chord cruising high-
way. Win me a bloody nomination
​
love, you’re the golden gramophone
so close to me, baby—can I hold you?

Jalynn Harris
​
Jalynn Harris is a Baltimore native currently pursuing an MFA at the University of Baltimore where she is the inaugural recipient of the Michael F. Klein Fellowship for Social Justice. She received her B.A. in linguistics from the UNC-Chapel Hill. Her work has appeared in Cellar Door and is forthcoming in Transition.