Dancing with a Curiosity
The day is all alive – like a fair, and the windows have something new to stare at — summoning their gaze inward for a time, their skittling eyes tracking me like white gloves across dustiness. And I am dancing with a curiosity. Dancing, dancing, sweeping moments of love and loss under cover of night, and I belong to no one — and everyone. I dance to remnants of music, whispers at every turn. Everyone dances to their own tune; that song that keeps playing in your head.
Found and remixed text From: Dickens, Charles. “Bleak House, of 265-267” iBooks Store: https://itun.es/gb/BnmVD.l
A Padlock Dance
We were tweed – tight as stitches,
but come night, we dressed as scarecrows.
Danced the fields into a paradise ditch,
lying there side by parallel side,
mirrored in fading thoughts.
We were hungry as weeds, had an affinity
for imported gin and green olives.
Your jagged tooth split my lip in the perversity
of our lock. No keys, you said. No worries,
and we snapped shut like a padlock.
A Fugue for a Clock
My ears embrace
the thin-skinned throb
of the clock’s voice today.
A petulance. That tick tick.
Drop drop. A perpetuance
of time rising on a wave.
Tick tick to cranking rhythms.
A fugue. Dance dance, let’s
pour ourselves into its echo
and rattle right into tomorrow.
Inspired by Bleak House, Charles Dickens
The term fugue refers in this instance to a
musical fugue, at in http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fugue