no food, no home.
just dance.
no friends, no family.
just dance.
no drugs, no lies.
just dance.
when the lights flash and the musics all blown out thats when lifes alive and the bums change their shouts.
they dont want your change.
just the volume up.
to drown out thier own songs of loss and death.
to get their fix, not their meth.
as he dances and jives he feels so alive.
spinnig in is hallway we call freemont street.
toe tappin and hip swingin
nothin can change this man
he been around down and made his bed on the ground
for thirty years he hasnt danced.
and now this night
he throws off his rags
and in his torn coats behind his once white beard he smiles.
he laughs.
he does not think why that night. or how.
just dance.
and tomorrow when the music stops and his dance is done
he'll wait for the lights again and the notes to bend
and then he'll dance is dance again
and finally feel that its his turn to win
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem