Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Poem: Michael Dreams of Dancing with Connie

Michael Dreams of Dancing with Connie
(falling asleep with the pen in his hands)

Whirligig, milkshake, pasta rigatoni
the clasp of hands in mid-flight
we burn the solar system into
a patch of wood,
Newton’s finest thoughts

Tap the swing and sway,
trace the liturgy of hand and hip,
lasso the tail of a comet’s
ellipse into the meeting of ribs,
tight as paint on glass and
circle and circle and
spin and

The downbeat of a
waltz arrives only once.

Tonight I take you by the
fingernails and
tie you into a puzzlebox:
silver ribbon, sleeve and shoe
smoke and liquor, Scotch tape,
foil paper laced with leather.

And then I
unwrap you
again and

From the collection Fields of Satchmo
Photo by MJV

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