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Click hereMy unhappy knees
no longer can quite kick
like a Cossack drunk
with joy and vodka,
nor bounce my body jerkily
up and down, up and down
like a child's cheap toy.
So I will ask you to dance
naked before my mirror.
I promise to watch
only your reflection,
admire only the reversed
image of your fine arms,
flanks, buttocks, your
trim shoulders, face—
all offset against the roll
and long crinkle
of these yellow drawn shades.
I am no household genius
but in choreography.
was mentioned in New Poems Recommendations on the Poetry Forum.
ah but that you are for writing something different and going in place i didn't expect
5ed