Counterweight.

April 23, 2008

His two left feet
arms around her waist
hung like clubs, or ice picks;
wing men, flippers on a bird –
his hands were:
meaty, sweaty, pockmarked, sour
she guessed been drinking
since the hour
the place had opened – this too tall,
clumsy man
who’d not so much as asked
as fallen in her arms-
was deadlocked round her calves –
left her helpless
only option just to – half dance
half cart – him back across the floor
bright lights, sweaty palms,
half dance –
one – two
half drag –
three – four
the man –
with the two left arms,
dangling useless like a
third limb – a soggy narn,
gabbling senseless ‘bout his mother
or her bra – get your hands from off my
ah!
the girl – with her strong right arm
decanted him into a stool
left him there to gurgle snooze.
The girl –
went back to dance,

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