Djangology by Liam Wilkinson

Finally alone, I pick up the tennis racquet
and dazzle the walls of our house
with my Django Reinhardt impression.

I move between the rooms with my racquet
and the small stool we use for buffing our shoes,
introducing each tune in a Belgian accent.

In the dining room, the table is astonished
to find that I’m doing all this with just two fingers!
Even the improvised solo in ‘Oh Lady Be Good’!

And before you arrive home, I launch
into the big finale, with the chair, the desk
and the rest of the Hot Club of France.

by Liam Wilkinson

Other poems by 'Liam Wilkinson'

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Election Day Campaign

Our Four Months

The Lunatic

Return To The Esplande

Welcome Here

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On Blake Street

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