In the country
Hardwood creaks under her bare feet
As she shimmies to Jr. Walker
A particularly sweet note from the sax
Makes her throw her head back and laugh
Makes her lift her hem above her knees
And roll her hips

Men in overalls
Who throw back corn liquor
To forget the burdens of their lives
Watch her hips
And remember that life is worth living


In the city
She steps lively in high heels and pencil skirt
As Sam Cooke urges her on
Because everybody loves to cha-cha-cha
She loves it
She closes her eyes and lifts her hands high
And switches her hips with paint shaker ferocity

Men with lye-slicked hair
Finger their skinny mustaches
And watch her with pack wolf intensity
Wondering who, if any
Will get to feast tonight


In the suburbs
She twists in poodle skirt and saddle shoes
Like she did last summer
Pink sweater and ponytail
Bespeak her innocence
While her body’s motion
Says it might be a lie

Boys who dream of cars
Dream of her riding with them
As the good girl in the front seat
And fantasize
That she’s the bad girl in the back seat


In the meantime they all enjoy the dance

Posted on October 31, 2011, in Free Stories. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. Beautiful Wize. I love the flow its like reading the music and seeing the dancing.

  2. Love the new look of the website.

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