Take the clean strut -
“Calligraphitti on wooden floors”
Elocution said,
“Slide your hips -
It’s the old bordello way,
enticing taxiderms
into sideshow access”

Burnt sandlewood shot
through badly boiled gin;
octagon beads in the doorway
as another night of tap
dancing on the cloaks
of local heresies begins.

I often dreamt of rebuilding
Buenos Aires in the desert,
only to be content with a shrouded
cathouse in Storey County

Where men from Bend
leave their little girls to die in hot cars,
occasional stray couples wandering off
of I-80 to ask how much it would cost
for them to stop dancing.

(much thanks to Elizabeth Hurst, Ed Mycue, Tony Tepper and Gerry Fleming)