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Give Me Some Dancing Shoes

Give me some dancing shoes Move out of my jazzy red suede blues Let me whirl my bipolar absolute truth Who is that? Is that dead husband of Ruth? Give me my high heels, silver, sassy and large I’ll take a burger with fries; make it a charge. If I step on your toes, be sure to squeal. That way I will know that you are delightfully real. Give me some space. Bring me my fur coat. Give me whirling room, you old lecherous goat! I need to howl and I need to swing. This life could really bring me some absolute zing. Giving me love will just break your unhappy heart. What else to say? Where could this old heartbreaker start? Stay out of my way, you cannot control or cage me. I’m dancing my truth, single with jazz, here I’ll be.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




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Date: 4/25/2022 9:25:00 AM
Wow. Terrific! Wowzer. I love the joy in this poem, Caren. "I need to howl and I need to swing!" YES!
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Caren Krutsinger
Date: 4/25/2022 9:13:00 PM
I am howling and swinging not at all today - a sick day at home, trying to get over a very bad sore throat, runny nose and cough.

Book: Shattered Sighs