Harmonica

She breathes in slowly

Wide open lips

plumped with action

from its rubbing on the skin

In the darkness

all eyes on her as she

blows

and sucks

the bitter limelight

She’s a black little kitten

stretching out, tail in the air

and she digs in her claws

All aboard the whistle screams

a train song

and the cling clang

of metal circles grinding

on hard rails

begs me to 

come 

along.

*This poem was written in reflecting on the fun experience of having heard my favorite poet, Kim Addonizio, play a song called "Train Song" on her harmonica. 

Kim Addonizio is known for her bluntly honest, raw and sexually charged poetry. A fan of the latter, hearing her play, I had been certain that "Train Song" had been an analogy for foreplay, sex, and orgasm. When I asked her about it, however (yes, I did) it turns out, it was 'just' a song and not about sex at all.

It left me, none-the-less, inspired.