Tuesday, July 13, 2010

For Shana

I arrived a flashing meteor
Hurled from my era of contradictions,

And laid in the grass something new. 
Let's dance then, I said, Make haste, 

Let's dance then, friend!
Burrs in our hair and sucking thorns 

We can dance for the season. 

And your eyes skimming sadness still
Keen remain lit,

As we awaken bruised from the half-forgotten nights
Of our whisky soaked masochism-soirees,

Wearing dresses made of drapes
With our bourbon stained cheeks.

Let's dance then, friend--
This jumble of loving and loathing, so cruel

This year of notable wildness and vice
Has given grey to my hair,

See it there? Let's dance then,
With our wounded selves let's make nice

Let's pull them sulking by the arms
Into the light

Brush the tangled hair from their eyes
And dance for the season. 

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