Eliot Feld

One dances, which sinks it hooks in like Jezebel.

One dances and for practical purposes the earth is flat.

One dances, finally trumped by genealogy and looking like your mother.

One dances - how the finale of why.

One dances indenting space.

One dance impermanent inscriptions in the air.

One dances jingled belles that jingle all the way.

One dances Poseidon's pin-up on the half shell.

One dances, which though irresistible to talk about resist all talk.

One dances obediently the likes of sit, heel, stay.

One dances - but why ever to accordions?

One dances - unless afflicted with dancer's block.

One dances - the progeny of aural sex.

One dances out of phase for the dither of ambiguous timespeed.

One dances unflappable charlestons.

One dances to toot toots in the privy.

One dances the union of software and hard drive.

One dances ballet's elocution to an end, not as an end.

One dances so I allies with me and we is one.

One dances until gravity gets laid and cows devolve.