I'm just happy to be here.

Tag: dancing


I’ve been dancing all night.
Mighty body, light feet.
No part of me is discreet,
only well-kept, only secret.
Meaning is a recipe I keep to myself.
But tonight, I am emptying the shelves.
Forget rationing, give me irresponsibility.
Forgive the past, someone sip hard liquor.
Fear is a balloon too big for your wrist.
Your body was meant to last,
even if you crash, the crash is sweet.
Look at me, Patron Saint of Self-Pity.
I wrote a new prayer for despair.
Pray with me? Say it with me.
My hips are a spoonful of sugar
pouring moonlight into the sky.
I’m writing my own impact theory.

Strangers howl at me with their sweet teeth,
mistake me for the incandescent croon of la luna,
la luna, white balloon, silver truth, lonely ghost,
who roams above the sky it once lived beneath,
never once haunting, only reflecting its cratered longing,
wanting to return, la luna, who once belonged
to the same earth, as both you and me,
your friends, your family, all of us together
belonging to the same dirt I’ve been kicking up all night.
Everyone has their own path to follow, but tonight it is easy.
My hips are a spoonful of sugar
pouring moonlight into the sky.
The people I love who are afraid of the dark
do not have to hide, instead, watch how
My knees hurl commands to my heels,
My heels speak for my feet,
My feet reach back and forth, traveling so fast,
I’m floating above the ground, flirting with friction,
Looking at the future like a dance floor I already kissed.


Lightning is all the sky talks about
Houston has a clapping chatter mouth,
bayou tongue, thundering teeth.
I drive by a series of buildings all dark
except the dance studio second-story window
where I see an elderly couple
so this
is the face of love’s
rhythm after it has grown?
I am almost crash the car
in a flash of grace.
I’ll never be the same.
The rain makes it so easy to fall apart.
Stay inside of yourself.
The trees flurry with reason
Weather is all about rhythm
Nothing trembles for trembling’s sake
I can sleep through thunder
I can dream through thrashing
Why is nobody impressed?
What’s left of my body besides
the crumbs of love?
If you don’t know the answer,
Don’t guess.


When the dance floor found out most of me
makes its living by breaking
and not busting
(or was it bursting?)
moves, the linoleum licked
the grease from my ankles
(or was it grief?)
gathered all its teeth to say,
Take this sad boy away. 

I want to say this
happened years ago
but we all know I am repeating history
for no reason but to pass the time.
I am twenty-two and tired all the time,
but preserve the pity, please? ‘Cause
My favorite part of the day is
every. The gorgeous every
that eats things first, time
second and then, of course
men. How many men have
had their hearts for dinner
and not known it ’til the 
exit? I expect morning breath
but morning beauty is a gospel
I still have a hard time drinking
along with my coffee, along with the
cravings, along with the music
I cannot help make sad, oh
the sad music I make my own
is just too gravestone to stop
playing. If I pretend I do not need
solitude or sorrow, I am not saying
love will save me. I am not saying
the rain makes me weak, 
I am simply lying all my bones
across the dance floor like
fresh linen and there is a spring
in my step and suddenly,
I am bursting a move
that makes me
think I do not always have to
lose myself
in order to
love myself. So
will somebody please
take this sad boy away?