Ms. Jean At The Pianoforte Poem by William F Dougherty

Ms. Jean installs herself upon the stool,
stiff as a silhouette, so as not to spill
her brimming glass of secret self and send
the girls in pleated skirts to fathom sound
in unexpected ways, perhaps to guess,
as Jean absorbs Rachmaninoff, the gist
of orchestrated ardor— tingling chords
her fingers transmute into rousing codes.

Music in blood seduces her tense night,
thumbs a glissando that loosens her knot,
prelude to furtive, sleep-swollen frisson
that peaks when sound and sense in fusion
crash and diminish a tumescent dream:
on Ms. Jean's shining lips wink flecks of foam.