Terpsichore is on the keys
She play dem lightnin' quick
Vivace like Vivald-ease
Metronome say 'click'
Hot Buddy Rich is blooming
On his eurhythm stick
And all who dance assuming
Inane arithmetic
And all who dance consuming
Cannibal arsenic
Neal Cassady, before us bourne
Proclaims 'The Forms are Dead!'
Twilight mistaken for the morn'!
Unnamed, unheard, unsaid
These fools are not worth fooling
By dreams of color bled
And all who dance unspooling
Imaginary thread
And all who dance lie cooling
In everlasting dread
Motion is a mad monsoon
Trouble is the tide
But all is still upon the moon
Because we sleep inside
Deftly dreaming butterflies
Fast into a jar
And all who dance are wound and wild
To waken into war
And all who dance are but a Child
Conceived within a Star
- Clare Quilty-Black
That was boss. *Snap* squared
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