who
would you sashay toward, do-si-do beside,
promenade or allemande left with
if you were caught in time,
found yourself in the corny old elegance
of the square dance?
I picture you in gingham
and me in overalls.
I’m hoping you’d have bowed to this partner.
I’ve got a stereotype of you
gently rocking my head.
something lovely and odd and unreal.
now, who you gonna step to?
who do you want to grind with you
in the more familiar
dances of our day?
I’ve got a picture of that too
and I’m in it
and there’s you too, boo.
like what I see.
but it’s not happening.
let’s runaway from these pictures
and get real in that town from the movies
where no one ever dances
by law.
it’s some kind of fiction
but let’s go there anyway
since this is some fantasy
and we can defy the dream law
and dance however we want
or maybe
find other stuff to do.
nothing nasty, just moonlight
and making stuff up
we like out of all the pieces from
the past. do-si-do, back that
up, do what feels good. you know:
dance.
Dark Matter 