Blues in my pocket
Poem by Elena Poletti
I keep the blues in my pocket
They can’t make no trouble there
I keep them tied under my skirt
Where they can’t jump out and get me.
I can put my hand in and touch them
like a pebble from the sliding river
like a shell from the crashing shore
but they don’t bring good feelings if I do.
A pebble round and smooth can bring you joy
a shell’s curls and twists can make you smile
But the blues, they’re only hard, hard, hard,
In the corner of your pocket dark and deep.
I keep the blues in my pocket
tied about me under my skirts
Though I know they’re always with me,
they can’t cause no trouble there.