Dance City Street Lights
A baby's basket
bounced two-times two.
Circled chimed towers ring
downtown beep-bop to the rhythm.
Enjoy the music; birds
fly over docks. It's the busy bouncing
great city street lights that
hit the road, shimmer in the dark.
I enjoy watching you dance to the music,
June. The jungle summer parties
kaput from hard rain last summer and were
laden with children screaming
"Mommy, I can't find you."
Nothing stops your dancing. You're
oblivious unless the music stops. I
pace the streets of the city's heart and
quadruple the center of the streets core, two-times-ten
ready to run, run when I know it's your
sassy sway from side to side 'till you
turn in his arms, a fall light as yogurt. It's
undeniable that this baby's basket can bounce, bounce, bounce, so
vulnerable to the splitting of the wood and the crying of the child's
watery mucus clogs her throat and all you hear is wah, wah, wah when
Xenon cries, like cheese cloth dipped in chocolate; hard to hear the
yelling when all you comprehend are feet tapping and music moving all around like
zig, zag, zook until you collapse, cause all you knew was dance, dance, dance.
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