in a red and turquoise room
I dance the devil down
with my head up,
confident nobody can have me.
is stage left from the audience's POV
or from the performer on the pedestal?
that's where I kick up dust,
with a head start to fun, dirty boogers.
she smiles at me from behind her guitar
and I close my eyes,
pretending the song is about us,
but so does everyone else.
when my head hits the pillow
I will be out for the count
because this kinda day
was lost to waking and dancing.
I take my shirt off
and hug the wind,
look up at the steeple
and thank god for this gift of go.