The Society for Cutting Up men.

Women

say of wounded-ness that destiny

is the star-like quest for fortune. That is

everything

greater than Eustachian has a salt like piquancy.

My mother, coming from the cotton fields to Detroit

on the back of a Greyhound bus

in a plaid dress and two fried chicken thighs

wrapped in a napkin. Propelled by those

two short taxon's of fate, being married and having

children,

gave birth to a girl child who would grow

and say that Paul was her favorite Beetle. Because

dancing

is an evolutionary step. Leaping and jumping is too.

But eventually a flame between the thinnest thighs

then it is retreating. Unrefrigerated. A deep oil

kept on the lower level of self. Ertha Kitt speaking,

returning; calling us in that raspy man voice

with a slit in her sequined gown

could not keep the curtains drawn tight enough so that

vision bulged in waves and folds

from boys..........like me.

Reviews

[Corset]

Happy New Year, I hope you are writing something amazing, cause what you do today you'll be doing the rest of the year, most people don't believe that , this year I hope not to believe in it too...cause then i'd be broke and job hunting all year wondering if you are ok, when you grow quiet it makes me nervous...cause then I suspect you are up to something XD

[h d e rushin]

i'm back from the south......Valdosta Ga, is the same feeling as outer space without those dreaded tubes of spaghetti. And yes, I am always up to something.....love you forever...dana

[Corset]

weightless, vertigo? some of those pouch dinners aren't half bad XD So glad to know you are still kicking and up to no good thing except being my hero, you won't get money for that either, sorry XD

[Emily B]

When I no longer danced, I found poems and I still flew. . .

I am wondering now if I ever will again

[h d e rushin]

you are never far away from poetry my friend, hence never far away from flight..I still read your poems when I need to rest from a long day of wandering.....And I say to you again, everything I know about poetry, you taught me.....happy holidays to you my friend....dana

[jacob erin-cilberto]

you make me stop and consider----and mull over so much when i read you...

the plight of women---they are the stronger of the sexes no doubt---and men get the benefit of their vision---they help us see ourselves better too..if only we would look...i have loved dancing all my life...the music always in me...not sure how far i have evolved---but that is not the music's fault.
j.

[h d e rushin]

poems are really mirrors dear Jacob. The kind that sat in large wooden frames in our mothers living rooms as we grew up. I mean, every time we visit the room they reflect not only what we look like but what we use to look like. The "me-too" movement is a reflection on the damage women have endured throughout this new age of discovery. We can birth a baby from a 24 year old frozen embryo, but we cannot define nor understand what love is. Thank you my friend. I have to pause when I think of your many contributions to poetry (the body not the circumstance of course). Evolution, as taught in academia, is still a theory..dana