The Former Jamesetta Hawkins


From midnight to seven today I was doing my Graveyard Shift Front Desk thing. Drove home to Cottonwood, communed with Cookie the cat on the couch and caught about forty-five minutes, then drove back to the Village of Oak Creek for my solo shift at the Village Gallery. It was busy and then not off and on from 10am to 6pm. When it was unbusy I looked through my almost-filled notebook for unfinished stuff, being too beat and disheartened to start something new, and found a portrait of Etta James. It was a welcome distraction to work on the portrait and to concoct some poetry based on the liner notes of one of her CDs, which we have at the Gallery. Now I’m here at home, very tired but wired too, and so I finished the page, scanned it and photoedited it as you see. Ms. James died two years and eleven days ago. I so wish I’d seen her perform.

Here are the words to the acrostic:

Even Angels board the ouija
Elves and trolls and you too mija
Thus goes one LA girl’s anthem
Took her Bleus but shan’t decant them
Thrilled a Fuqua Chessed a piece
Tapped a needle for release
Ahh: AT LAST she’s made good choices
Adding hers to Heaven’s voices


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