Not a Waltz
[From “Save the Waltz” by Zelda Fitzgerald
The bones of frustration do not waltz
nor do they apologize to the trees
they do not care that the moon asks for higher wages
or that there is a white moon for tea time.
The arms of lightning do not twist
but hurls its thesis and sings soprano rain
they do not care about the muddy afternoon sky
over the city of glittering hypotheses.
The apologetic trees do not tango
their shy luminosity bursting with dignity
they do not care about bachelor sanctuaries
or that the sun is bleeding to death.
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.