Back to Poetry Page

FRED AND GINGER

His tuxedo is black, His hair slicked back, His top hat is chic, Sings cheek to cheek. Brass band swings, On his arm she clings, Diamonds and dress shimmer. Shoes and heels glimmer. Tapping and tossing, At zebra crossing, In the night two croon, Piano dance on the moon. Waltz on Ginger! Waltz on Fred! What's that you said? The glitter is not real, We watch while you steal Time that misery would take - The hunger, the jobless, the heartache. The final scene, A taxi waits off screen. Frank Corso




Back to Poetry Page