Wednesday, June 18, 2014

poem of the day 06.18.14

salsa dancing

she thinks she’s bad
she thinks she’s the shit

salsa dancing under the new utrecht subway sign

in her tight turquois pants
and a white blouse that can no longer hold her tits

she thinks she’s the sexiest thing here

one hand on her belly
the other raised like she’s pledging allegiance

moving at the hips
bending at the knees

swaying her ass against the cold brick

looking around behind big sunglasses to make sure
that everyone is watching

she’s not even young
this woman is hitting fifty with a bullet

so it was either do this for attention
or start shouting at someone on her phone

she thinks she’s so bad ass
with her big gold earrings bouncing off her sunken cheeks

with her croaking mini-mouse voice belting out
ghostly celia cruz crap that’s enough to wake the dead

she thinks she’s the superstar on this platform
if only her moves could make the train come quicker

i can’t stop looking at her
she’s like a highway wreck

she catches me and when i look away
she thinks i’m being coy

because when i turn back she’s facing me
doing her dance to the hilt
getting as low as her old body will let her

she smiles at me through hot pink lipstick
all yellow teeth and gaps

when she starts singing again
i start to get a good ball of phlegm going in my mouth

i let it shoot just as she hits another high note
green and thick and shot her way

it doesn’t go the distance but i’ve made my point

she frowns and stops shaking it for a moment

she thinks i’m the biggest asshole here
and she may be correct

but then she turns and salsa dances away from me
down the platform toward someone else

someone who she hopes will be
a bigger patron of her art.


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