Footloose
Mind dancing,
missing steps, not much leaping.
Even so, good enough.
Long time backwards
'Brown Sugar' hip jerking stuff,
white bellbottoms flaring like Day lilies.
We were a floor for others to adore,
microcosms in a single frame universe,
eyes whirring, pinned to the air
with a none-stick-glue.
It was not true dancing,
you have to enter your mind
like a matador
to really step out of yourself
and into the boot clogging
beat of a singular stillness.
Still, even now
at the doorstep of all my unknowing,
I can dance across a mindscape
with a heel-clicking, tightly laced ego.
Good enough, and
better than just
rolling around
like a stone.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
