Sunday, January 1, 2017


I said I wouldn't dance with you;
Your hair's too blond, your eyes too blue.
A loaded gun and fully cocked,
dynamite cap set to go off.
I swore I wouldn't dance with you.

She's too proud of humility.
Her giant modesty towers from her knees.
She's so proud of humility, the giant Modesty towers from the knees.
Even us healthy ones she treats like disease.

I said I wouldn't dance with you.
Your arms, I knew, would hold like glue
No neon ever hijacked us,
I refused to be target practice
I  knew I'd never dance with you.

Oversharp in her ignorance, she's
indisputably a genius between the knees.
Oversharp in her ignorance, undeniably she's a genius between her knees.
The peacock preens, pretending that no one sees.

I said I wouldn’t dance with you:
The night's too young, too bright's the view.
But that bandit moon lit the fuse,
and insurgent night made the news,
though I'd said I'd never dance with you.

dancing in the moon
light with Nancy and kissing her good -
comes quickly this time of year
and icily as well: the wind
bites nicely and to the quick --
oh these thoughts! are dancing nicly
through the wind kissing this memory
somehow -- I can hear the
memory embers
hisssing in the wind (is sharp
this time of year) like java in the night
comes dark and sharp and bitter.
spring it was or was it fall? (no matter)
(no matter at all the season) the reason
I recall at all is Nancy her name
whispers in the moon light, or
is it the night
wind that's light
or was it the fall --
-- no matter --
it was time and she was mine and we were
hours until the dawn (comes quickly, this time)
and I must go on:
I wanted to go on, to bound
fast as the hound Wind
and as free too but I was bound too fast to this ground
and ground too far down and
ground far too fine too but I danced on
with Nancy til I was out of time
and out of mind (but I must go on for now)
I dance with my mind I dance
with the wind and the night and the ice and
but where is the Nancy?
I dance with memory and death and death and memory
and now the dancing's through, for
every spring one makes fall's not far behind --
and life and mind and the night and the wind
go quickly this year of time and mightily as well
and all matter
(but no matter)

-- Duane Vorhees


  1. wow! This is poetry at its peak... So sweet. Thanks so much sir for sharing it with us. Happy new year.

  2. Thank you for thinking so. I look forward to more of your contributions.


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