Thursday, June 25, 2009

Now Where Was I...

Waving from a plastic past,
was it 86, before
the unladylike fall from grace?
The radiostar didn't die,
the video did...

Spinning on a dance floor,
stilletto's cursed my feet
in purple bruise... the ball
fascinated in fascination,
Proud Mary in drag lured,
as we pounded the beat. 
He swayed and purred,
as diva of the underground 
NYC warehouse set.

Pursued by a mad hatter in hot pants
in closeted chase... pretty in a top-hat,
I couldn't be sure of the alluring intent.
Pumping in a frenzied dance of spectacle
to Palmer... looking for clues.

Smokey mist... ABC
brought him home when he sings.
Sychopop came on strong,
with one crazy flying Dutchman...
had to keep a blind vision during
the line hell of a fascist march.

Sashay to the powder room...
whip cracking obsession,
danger in the metamorphosis,
the butterfly has landed.

Yes, I would love to be young
at heart, in the mountains...
The dirge pours forth as the rain descends,
the Passions precede Ockenfold,
they were moved in love.

A blip to extraterrestrial French
in a fade to gray... no way!

I dance to the dead...
men at work
I'm an imbecile
safety dance...
I don't think so.

My friend, if you think music 
hasn't shaped you... you're sadly mistaken.

The disco fries were delicious,
as the sun rose over the horizon.



2 comments:

  1. My friend, if you think music
    hasn't shaped you... you're sadly mistaken.


    we are shaped by many things
    music,art,love,heart break..some of them each has a role in shaping your soul..

    great poetry

    ReplyDelete
  2. How right you are... this was a disco reminisce as I listened to some 80's New Wave music... may things were going on back then, not all good, but I don't regret a single moment.

    ReplyDelete