Charlene Fleming, An Ode

Charlene is Boston.

One cheek, smart

The other, brash

One side (of the river), art

The other, trash.

Charlene, you say, or Charles?

A woman runs through it, but

More comfortable in bars.

The center cannot hold;

With mere Charlene loosed on this world.

A city that’s too good

For someone who’s too good for it.

It’s bell epic, Mickey, not Belley ep-oh-cue.

No, it’s bell ep-ock.

The joke is on you.

The corrector corrected.

The culture shocked.

Charlene is not.

Better.

Charlene won’t brawl with you, Charlene will out-box.

You.

Another shot.

Who?

Head

Body

A chess game; Charlene is never sorry.

Head-body

Head-body

Her hair, her voice, her lip

They torch.

Get the fuck off her motherfucking porch.

Sugar-Ray?

He tripped.

Head.

Body.

Not satisfied with

Her bar

Not impressed by

Your car

Should have won the

Os-car

Sorry Alice.

Charlene deserved.

Better

Charlene is.

Better