Los Angeles Girl

As she exhales, she is inspired--
the needle scratches the groove of Bitches Brew.
Amidst the shrill hisses and static pops,
Spanish Key possesses her to roll her regal joints.

Her mystic rhythms tempt me,
my core incensed with chronic venerations and rank funk.
Thick vapours and unfurling wisps slither around her nappy hair.
She, an urban Oya summoning potent breezes,
inhales dense clouds and African spirits,
Her soul enchanted with dank voodou and chthonic muses.

Yoh mang one of my favorites. You got this poem across so well I can see the Purple Haze. ;D