Give Me Some Space
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 © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2022
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