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Not always, but sometimes, when I put on some music,
I shed my shirt to the floor, drop my jeans, don
My thin, black and white pants from Dresden, drown perfectly.
I frantically vibrate about the room, dance ecstatic energy.
Due dates, death, daily drudgery fall from my shoulders
Against their will, like boulders released in a landslide Ecstatic beads of grinning, greasy sweat pour forth
From my face through the ancient dance, each second tastes
Newer than the salty last, and the present moment is torn
From its neglected seat in my harried mind.
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