sweat

FRED GRIEFF

It's dark now on Baltimore
The walkup settles on an incline
Steady
Like breathing

Appears a dancer from
Behind the dream of a home
Left on the third floor
In the hallway
By the coat hook
And the shoes

"Bee-hind! Bee-hind! Bee-hind"
She taps the baseboard
Then her shoulders

"Oh God"
"It's finally real"

Her face is flush
Pointed
Feet splayed to first position
Ready, willing, able

Glitter and lace cover the body
Like a big coat
Like it's always so easy

Tonight's the night
And she'll drink it up
And spit it out if she pleases

She will groove with no one
And grip the hand drill with ease
And greased palms
Hot
Bothered for the night

She begins in the corner
Vibrating in time
Like a bag of twisting hands
Going on for hours

Then unfurling herself
Surrendering to the floor
Then swooning upwards
To meet the ceiling fan
Head first

Its ends in prostration
And wretching

The dancer caught a whiff of herself
So she shakes the sweat that won't cling

It's done
So she steps down into the street

And the night is sweet on her
The air wants her bad
She can tell

She's never been cold
But she shivers
Like a signal
To any and all
Thin men and
The fruit bare girl trees

She is ready
Willing
Able