My Dance, My Bad, My Deep

My dance, my bad, my deep.
I gave a sorrow opening,
loosed it on
the gap within.

Ornery. Tantrum,
layabout and cry.
Going to victim this whole long day.
Grow me kudzu, funeral bouquet

for neverending grief show. Still, got
rocker hips, roller hips, jazz
in groin and hips:,
joy ends up somewhere

when pushed from head and heart.
End up one sad grinder.  End up bad
with bad sinking in deep but still
one way to set it off and hold it back,

so then to music while still in the hole:
give my bad, my deep a resistance.
Rhythm’s a big mole digging in 
under the roots.  Charged up winner

rubbling the dark village.  Earth body
a quake cracking on the light.  When
I, frightened, shake, I still gotta dance
my dance, my bad, my deep.  My gotta happen.

About Tony Brown

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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

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