Wedding Dancing

Aches and pains
disappear

at the open bar

in open fascination
of the pulsing,
writhing mass
of dancing bodies
in techno-trap-
whadizthizmuzic.

A few quick
dance lessons

from Jack Daniels and
the music pulses in

matched synapses,

gives me that old
fashioned primal beat.

Salome, you dears,

don't ask for my head

when you nab me

for a dance, you

three, barely
thirty-something

daughter's friends,

in your combo of
youth and virtuosity.

Escorts at both elbows
with one leading the way,
to their dance floor domain
we go, those three
and my gray goatee to

jump

gyrate

bump

to the rhythmic method

of da-da-dancing,

definitely not the father-daughter dance.


©Eusebeia Philos 2013