favorite song

favorite song comes on 

static electricity 

and the people that know

say yes

hands outstretched to the sky

lights turn to blue

flash to magenta

now’s the time for your best dance moves

or sometimes you just sit back and smile

arms laced in back of your head

close your eyes

nod to the beat

as it transports you 

in an instance

for a moment

you’re in the music

you live in it

favorite song knows how to get you

favorite song and the eyes glimmer

something dormant comes alive

something sleeping wakes

and whether you move or not

time stands still as it moves around you

world moves around you

you dance with it

you watch it

you see the symphony before your eyes

see the dance

synchronicity of every moment

perfectly matched with the song

the beat

and you sing

because it hits you deep

play it again

and to dance 

as if i was moving through space with my hands like 

movement was my language

when i drift side to side by side and then look up and see

dedication within each purposeful step and i could bend my knees

make a welcoming gesture and look before me 

out to the world 

like the world hears my story and knows my mind

could point my toes

as if trying to grab something with my feet

could smooth and glide and step 

the way i would move 

transforms into brightness

and even a twirl of the wrist and i look down

i know how to fill in rhythm with something else

because the language is inherent

and grasping fingers stretch to the sky and i turn up my palms

waiting as if to catch 


far off

in the distance


like stars the shimmer from far away


when you dance it’s not hard

your body tells you exactly what to do 

and you just roll to the next thing

keep going

keep it moving

keep your body moving

and you step 

keep stepping along

make your own syncopated little steps to the beat

that fit with the beat

that make additional music on top of the music

that rolls with it

rolls into every part of your body

swirves into every step

you step

keep stepping 

keep on

keep with the beat

keep laughing 

keep smiling

keep illuminating

keep connecting music to action

keep moving

and the bass so fluid

and harmonizing

and there is no wrong 

only things turning into other things

and transformation 

and the kind of movement that is fluid

and feeling

and just keeps going

because music never ends


This is inspired by a play i started a while back. 
The two were dressed all in black. Skin tight. Shadows around their eyes and half their faces in the darkness of the warehouse. bright lights that changed colors, patterns. Flashes and spotlights.

The two, motionless like a tableau, like statues. Expressionless, stoic faces. Not emotionless if you can feel the temperature of the room. If you can feel the music and the lyrics and the beat and it stirs you.

Beautiful creatures, awh they look so sad. But why? Life too hard for you now? That it? Didn’t think it was going to be easy did you?

They call them kids cuz they seem to be so palpably affected, but they aren’t swinging on swings or climbing trees or jumping from great heights. 

No. Instead, they prefer to be perfectly still when motion happens around them as a big fuck you to whoever might hate.

They sit. Staring, not judging — though maybe it feels that way to you. Maybe it feels like they think you’re not good enough, but they are just listening.

Then, a flash of light, the intro to a familiar song and they don’t even need to look at wach other. They stand together, holding hands and move slowly to the dance floor and they dance.

Around them is craziness. You think maybe for lack of movement they would not be good. Be tentative. Be goofy. Oh, but your so wrong this time. 

When they dance something else is happening. Passions flying and you would only understand if you knew the origins of the word, “ecstasy”, from ekstasis, “to stand outside the self”. As if touched by a god and inhabited by a spirit thought of as separate from your own identity. 

The two are in a different world, different plane, different time. Motion becoming slow motion. Every move a picture, a tableau.

The music plays on. The beat keeps going and they keep going as they fall into the groove that could propel them all night, all morning, for a lifetime.

Flashes across their faces. Eyes lowered then suddenly visible. Maybe one looks at you in between movements. Then the other. Enticing… 

They keep moving. Connected. 

And the people all stare cuz they’ve never seen anything like it before.

when the lights go dark, i dance

This is June Bug. She puts on lipstick in the rear view window of her car as she sits outside a club with thumping bass. Dark red looks like velvet. Tastes like plastic wax. 

June Bug looks at groups of people frolic into the club. Stroll in seemingly casually. And she feels an affinity with them all — the excitement of a new place. The need to quell the nervous jitters. The darting eyes. The indecision. June Bug knows all this. She feels it all but she’s not a part of any group. 

She’s there alone. And it wouldn’t matter if her outfit attracted the most attention or the least. If she were done up or not. She is there alone. No group. No one she’s specifically meeting.

Unless you consider the music and maybe the closest thing to the music, The DJ. June Bug follows the music. Drifts her way through the crowd to the front of the stage so she can do what she was born to do.

Purple lights cross with lime green. Orange and blue sparkles collide spinning, surrounding her. Music knows how to move her body. She just lets go and follows through. It’s not hard. Just listen. It will tell you everything you want to know and make you the happiest you’be ever been.

The people begin to notice. June Bug keeps dancing. 

June Bug always dances.

To any and all. The unsung music of the heart.

June Bug always dances.