I was wondering how long it would take people to make the connection between Arizona Zervas’ 2019 single “Roxanne” and the 1979 version of the song by The Police. What a difference 40 years in America make, because in seventy-nine The Police were solidly committed to a version of Roxanne that painted her as a quasi-victim in need of saving by…..The Police, or whatever individual cishet dude one wants to disaggregate The Police into.
Fast-forward to 2019 and, yeah, she think [you’re] an asshole and yeah all she wanna do is party all night and yeah, she never gonna love [you] but it’s alright and yeah, most definitely, she keep running back though / only cuz [you] pay up. 2019 Roxanne is done with everybody’s bullshit. 2019 Roxanne is a bitch who loves the ‘Gram, who don’t give any fucks, who just wants her money.
Think about this: if I were a teen boy on The Internet and sang all the words I’m typing instead of actually typing them right now, I’d be selling out stadiums on a world tour and developing my own clothing line. With the right face and the right haircut, obviously. With the right emo party hair and the proper supply of cocaine.
I hereby pronounce myself dead.
I pronounce myself dead not once, twice, but daily. Minute by minute, breath by breath I’m buried.
The first time I died was ever-ever-ago, or more precisely: October 26, 2021. “Roxanne” was playing on the phone that day. 2019 Roxanne, not 1979 Roxanne. It was a day the rain came down in dregs, in droves, soaking piles of fallen leaves and filling up the clogged cast iron gutters until they overflowed and pooled water in the streets — glimmering lakes of chemical residue and refuse.
The dog was refusing to leave the deck, a rarity, and instead remained frozen in an unnatural sitting position, her hips uneven, crouched beneath the soffit. I took her picture. I did. (Bitches love the ‘Gram!). I forced her by leash into the streets and she must have known, already, what was going to happen.
My dog’s bones are good and sturdy. Despite having been broken before I got her, and healed without any vet care, my dog’s bones are 100% solid and she can prognosticate the smell of blood from miles away.
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© 2023 | Valéria M. Souza a.k.a. “Ghostwriter” | All Rights Reserved
Ghost Writer 