Tina

Go on, watch me dance, what you do with claims, those who know to prance, have no peace but twist, when they hear your name, red curl to their lips, your broad brimmed hat, jaunty high window shades, white face dark glance, waiters drag unshaven shifts, stamp with wooden Ole’, the size of your tips, you suck on gambas, with a raging fame, shout Basta to the Ramblas, are my legs your gift, you are like the rain, lifts, tiffs, over the hill, will you go away ?