White Woman on Cover, Black Group Inside

By John Grey 

(There was a time, back in the 50’s and early 60’s, when record albums by black artists, especially jazz ones, didn’t feature the performers on the cover. Often, in their place, would be some sultry-looking white woman.)

It's not sex

but a rare jazz record

tucked under the arm

comes close.

Besides,

what girl do I know

could live up to

the pretty white woman

on the cover.

What does she care for me,

you say.

Enough to protect me

from the black combo

playing on the inside

apparently.

I'm on my way to Andy's.

Pretty white woman can steer her sailboat

and watch while I extract,

from the sleeve,

vinyl the color of the

drummer and pianist,

the flugelhorn player

and the guy on double bass.

We'll listen...no, we'll feel, enjoy,

in the secret hideaway of his upstairs bedroom.

But sorry pretty white woman,

I can never make

an honest woman of you.

Sure, you're lovely but you're cardboard.

Besides, the title of the album

merely underlines your self-delusion.

You think your name's Miles Davis.

This was recorded just after Coltrane left the band. Miles was very unhappy with the cover and it was changed when reissued in later years

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Stand, Washington Square Review and Rathalla Review. Latest books, “Covert” “Memory Outside The Head” and “Guest Of Myself” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in the McNeese Review, Santa Fe Literary Review and Open Ceilings.