Tuesday, December 28, 2010

False Pride: Tango Dancer

False Pride:  Tango Dancer


You are the seductive arch
of a bay without roots,
a drop descending on the half-light,
sustenance of magic
footsteps at the moment
of the suicide. 

You dance with the white
and silent breeze of AIDS
where tango dancers
take their stilettos for a
stroll— broken-in Italian

shoes— then burn their tongues
nailed to a false pride. 
I spit you, not once or twice
but three times.

You’re female and male
neutered to frighten the
children at local holidays,
a simple invitation to dust.  

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