Posts Tagged Dancing

This One Lady

I know this crazy
girl / her voice squirrels
around like a fluctuating
car horn with a
dying
bat-
tery.

She is silent often,
but when
she goes,
she goes / it’s slow and
steady and always
breath-
less.

If I listen carefully,
I go crazy with her

as she crawls around on her
belly, sticking her tongue
out at me, and always
surprising
me with a
jump

from her knees to her
tippy-toes, dancing like a
drunken
balle-
rina.

I want to eat meals
with her, watching her
face as she soaks in all
of the chaos
that spins
around
her.

And I want to take naps
with her, but I do not think
she eats or
sleeps.

, , , , ,

1 Comment

A New Kind of Friday

I was on a taut tightrope today.
It was huge. You could look inside
me and see these excited little bugs
dancing all around, and all of my
muscles were doing the dancing
on the tightrope. You would not see
this on the outside, but you would see
a guy who seemed okay. I wasn’t hating
myself today, and you don’t have to
call it god, but this terrific hurricane
of good came through me and sparkled
all of my rotten organs and fused me
with these lights that blazed out to
the paintings on the walls of the old
red brick building with the intricate
white front, and when I walked over
the bridge, all of the purple birds
inside of me started chirping music
that delighted my soul.

, , , , , , , , ,

18 Comments

%d bloggers like this: