Poem With Dancer

​She knows that the secret power behind
the scene regards dance
as sweaty irrelevant bodies getting
between him and some inadequate music.
Not worth her annoyance, just one of those
dull obstacles out there – everyone has one.
It makes her want to rehearse again,
to improvise some complex move;
not to prove anything … But she’s tired.
Needs to sit longer, hydrate.
Suddenly she feels trapped in the chair.
Refuses to fear. Uses the moment
for an exercise – flexing, feeling each
extremity. Achieves thereby
a standoff with the force, whatever it is;
but with places to go, things to do, people
to see, she needs to attack. Extends her
legs in their violet tights, at the same time
relaxing (this is hard) her belly, back
and face. Directs quanta and further quanta
of attention to her breasts,
which swell. Is certain that
whoever/whatever it is will flee from this.

Frederick Pollack
Washington, DC
www.frederickpollack.com
 
Author of two book-length narrative poems, THE ADVENTURE and HAPPINESS (Story Line Press; the former reissued 2022 by Red Hen Press), and three collections, A POVERTY OF WORDS (Prolific Press, 2015), LANDSCAPE WITH MUTANT (Smokestack Books, UK, 2018), and THE BEAUTIFUL LOSSES (Better Than Starbucks Books, 2023). Many other poems in print and online journals.