Wiggle Dance - Gord - Aspoet
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Gord

2023-01-11 06:09 pm
A rabbit runs free, in the past,
Toward nothing it finds meaning.
Fish of streams, pivot teeth,
Laughter, tongue chatter, sea.
By the brine they find peace,
And man, king of beasts.

Man forms groups, 
Parts in two, like lips,
The bartender and you.
Glass tightly in a grasp,
Like a woman's clasp,
Like a rabbit in a trap,
Wiggle dance, calls,
Nobody calls back.

Like man, cash advanced,
Wiggle dance, calls,
Calls, nobody calls back.
That man can run like a rabbit,
Dance like a rabbit,
Hears like a rabbit,
Fears the language of diagrams,
Candles and passwords.
He describes freedom, devoid of it's traps,
Talking about assholes out of sadness and anger.

He tries to understand, too foolish in banter,
Expanding his mind with standards that matter,
His reaction barely examined, rather managed,
Inside he feels his wiggles, the dance begins,
What can exist, he thinks as a passing thing,
Kicks and springs his feet, never hears a ring.

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