I think there's too many dance floors in the world, Too much wood and basement and bound in velvet
People dressed as Christmas ornaments stretched around corners waiting to spend 10 dollars to be escorted below ourselves
To heat, To strobe, To liquor
Liquor to sweat to sex
Too many bouncers bound in their small black outfits
Too many bad songs to make the ass bounce
So it lays flat as a deflated balloon animal

Better just to stay home I think
To learn the moves of the world without letting the world see
The world sees you as a shallow grave
So stay in
Better not offer the soft meat to those boys' pearl polished teeth

This is why I'm home alone bent before my computer screen
Trying to train the awkward wing of my ass to fly
And not just lay still as a shotgunned duck

The woman in the tutorial seems to have left out an important step
How do you leave your body long enough
to let it be inhabited by someone who is good at dancing
I'm still trying to figure out how to bend a thousand miles from where my toes live
Shifting from one foot to another in a rhinoceros funeral dirge
My ass the casket, my head rapidly filling with blood

But then, y'all, a miracle happens
Something splits
Perhaps it is the divide between my body and its inhibition
But no of course not
It is my favorite pair of pants ripped down the middle