crazy dance holiness
by Francine DuBois

For SW

No red balloons can get between us now
In the throes of this dance
That makes me say "Holy . . ."
And you say "Fuck . . ."

We've been finishing each other's sentences for years,
So it's only appropriate we finish with this.

While I know tomorrow, you'll slap on your polo shirt
And dust your shoulders off,
Considering me just another number,

I know you far better than you think--
And you're not thinking numbers tonight.

Francine's Version -- Hezekiah's Version
Previous Poem -- Next Poem -- Table of Contents

help support us by frequenting our sponsor