Love Don'T Live Here No'Mo Poem by Ida Harris

She barrelin' thru.
Ain't time for arrangements.
No Jazz funeral, ain't time for time.
Tell Zulu
I'll miss 'em 'til da next time
Hold on to my throws.
I greet dem in da second line.

Hot brass
soul soothing’, sangin’
My blues away, dey was thrown
To da wind I said, bye-bye bey-bey
She turned her back on me.

The Wards dey ain't miss'er
And da Quarter she mis'd dere
Dismis'd the backatown to catch step wit da low nine
She ain't mine, just kept
'til it's time to run wile
Wif out lookin behind.