My Dance, My Bad, My Deep

Originally posted 2/7/2013.

I give a sorrow
opening.  I
loose it on
a gap within. Soon come

ornery, tantrum, layabout and cry.
Going to victim this whole long day:
grow kudzu, a funeral bouquet
for neverending grief show.

Still, I got rocker hips,
roller hips, jazz groin and jazz lips:,
joy ends up somewhere
when pushed from head and heart.

Still, I end up one sad grinder.  
End up bad into more bad sinking,
but still with one way
to set it off and hold it back — and so,

on to music. Still in the hole, I give
my dance, my bad, my deep
some resistance. Rhythm’s a big mole digging in 
under the roots, a charged up winner

rubbling the dark; my earthly body
quakes cracking in the light.  Whenever
I, frightened, shake fear, I gotta dance
my dance, my bad, my deep — 

it’s my gotta happen.


About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

2 responses to “My Dance, My Bad, My Deep

  • Eileen

    Going to victim this whole day……grow kudzu ( LOVE IT!)

    (and joyless sex really just doesn’t do it …does it?)

    rhythm’s a big mole digging in under the roots

    it’s my gotta happen (When all else fails …’s my fail safe…)

    As always, in awe of your ability to express human experience so succinctly from the inside out.

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