everyone dies with dirty laundry &
dance is a language I don't speak

but i’m fluent in anxiety
it’s a(live) current
scurrying through me
—pumping convulsions
that electrif(r)y
‘til i, too, start to do
a li’l woo-hoo boogie:
(come on & watch me)
shimmy up this pole,
straddle these

_____________________

power     line     tightropes

like a fearless squirrel
with half a tail
(a sad stub of a nub)
—still a squirrel, mind you,
just well-seasoned
with the spice rub
of life & you
can’t stop me
from being this
ro(a)dent acrobat
& yeah, sure, there’s always
gonna be something (off)
with me but hey,
betcha can’t do this—