January was dreary
February stretched till a hole
split in the pizza dough…
Dance
the music sways
your hands follow…
I hear the wind
as music…
We’ll dance till the band
runs out of breath…
I don’t remember
the name of the music…
Please attend my hurricane party,
it’s great because the storm
is me and my wild imagination…
Rumble and roll,
down to your core,
matching heartbeats,
guiding them…
You know what?
Get your ass on the floor…
why do we like them?
is it because they are soft
and colorful?
is it their humor?
is it their craziness? …
I can glimpse a neon hoodie
mowing the lawn outside my window
I’m here dancing my tension out…
Daily Poets 