The Artistry Of A Slow Waltz
In the glare of a thousand fluorescent lights,
these fledgling feet you'd think
might flail and flounder,
They stand inert
like gravestones in a hinterland of teeming earth.
And neither Strauss nor Mozart can prevail,
offering immortality in three four time.
The artistry of a slow waltz
resides in the triumph of dexterity
over the absurd.
And such a strange farrago, they'd agree
this requeim waltz and...well
this graceless amputee.
And such capacious incapacity!
Legs made NOT to dance.
And what a place to make their final stand-
like nervous landlocked mutineers
and so expose
of cartillage and bone
know it's time
to seek expression in some other art.
And all the while
this ordered world
spins like a honed and polished dancer
despite my inexplicable hostility to rhythm.
Comments about this poem (The Artistry Of A Slow Waltz by Emlyn Wentwhistle )
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