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.