From Melancholia's Tremulous Dreadlocks
METROPOLITAN AVENUE DANCE NO. 1
I will myself into a bird. I might be a sparrow
or a robin or a broken plate. I might
not be any of these things. I might hide
in the shed or sing a wicked song.
I might sing e-i-e-i-o. I will myself
an audience— everyone claps or sings or
does nothing. I will myself into a frame,
tuck in my arms, my legs. Perhaps I begin
again, this time with a partner. Partner says
you sing a wicked song.
Partner says sparrow, dish-plate, birdsong.
Partner says, no, no, you’re doing it wrong.
© Gina Myers 2006
I will myself into a bird. I might be a sparrow
or a robin or a broken plate. I might
not be any of these things. I might hide
in the shed or sing a wicked song.
I might sing e-i-e-i-o. I will myself
an audience— everyone claps or sings or
does nothing. I will myself into a frame,
tuck in my arms, my legs. Perhaps I begin
again, this time with a partner. Partner says
you sing a wicked song.
Partner says sparrow, dish-plate, birdsong.
Partner says, no, no, you’re doing it wrong.
© Gina Myers 2006
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