I told him once it was a dance,
and I hyphenated
the push – pull – go – come
choreography
like a tormented poet might.
How clever the analogy!
(And how could he not love clever?)
Watch me pirouet, I said.
Put a spin on this
so the song doesn’t end,
and the routine goes on forever.
(Did you see that? Clever again.)
It’s the same old song and dance, love.
We can’t side-step the family dance-step,
it’s in our genes, and I don’t mean Kelly, so…
I’d like to shake things up a bit,
you know, move with the times…
Why not dance this year’s dance to—
the pachenga.
Poem ©Jen Payne
If you like this poem, you’ll LOVE the Divine Intervention issue of MANFEST (zine)


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