Issue 7
June 2001
Jaye Renke
I am a writing and reading junkie living in Denver, CO. I hold no degree and I have not previously been published. I could use all the feed back any one has to offer.
All work © Jaye Renke
The Dancer's Body
Who could not?
By the river,
it's autonomic gush
and ionic rejuvenation,
fall in love.
With the flexed triceps,
the taut calf,
the strained pectoral,
the lucid gluteus,
all set into seamless motion,
by way of your
droning instrument.
Who could not?
Follow the flush
of the well kept face.
Follow her,
melodious siren
beyond the piecemeal
of your life
with it's
stagnant eddies,
and boorish pooling.
Follow Euphrates
to her whimsy-kitchen,
where each morsel
for your gaudy mouth,
is garnished
with learned movements,
from extended phalange
to tapping football.
All to serve you.
Who could not?
I ask you.
Mirror that reflects
the consequence
of indifference.
Mirror that reflects
my ineptitude,
my tone-deafness,
my gracelessness.
Mirror that has reflected
all of the women.
Had and then left.
Cultivated, and in turn
floated like paper boats
down the coincidental
beauty of a dancing stream.
Bar SeasonsGirls who dress as our Mother's dressed, for the revolution
with their humpy shoulders bared and their windsock skirts
and pagan hairdos are meant strictly for summer.
They should hold their kisses and grass smoke and cliff dancing for summer.
Girls who pole-postured ride their own stride,
cock their sheathed hair line from outside their black turtle necks
to look over at you cue eyed are meant strictly for winter.
They should save their manuscripts and car loans and matching underthings for winter.
Girls who go to excess,
and wear those too short sweaters to match
with their light cigarette smokes and Jack and cherry Cokes
who move their hips like so many lanky things
they see on the TV screens are meant strictly for fall
(because that's what they long to do any how).
They should keep their after school kids and broken up homes and night classes for fall.
Girls who ring around your poesy never grow old.
You might catch a glimpse of her yawning navel
as she spins on the dance floor.
With their dancing that never makes anyone uncomfortable.
The girls that fit always in your middle are meant strictly for spring.
They should store their I fit in's and I can do anything's
and come over and see me undress my little yellow body, for spring.