Prison Dance With Gypsies

PRISON DANCE WITH GYPSIES the guards’ rifles stab the thick gray air – under their eyes shivers of rain wash our faces – beat our bodies with needles of water hollow metal buckets – instant drums an echoless mantra slowed by fading hope raise our hands with rhetorical questions praise the beans in our thinning stomachs the buckets’ full sound springs us onto our feet – we throw our clothes in mud breasts jump startled nipples harden in the cold in our patch of freedom we jump – stomp the mud model and remodel its silky softness mud embraces caresses our nakedness with open mouth kisses our thighs – our toes wedge it in lightning we are silver like slippery fishes swim in our guards’ minds we burn their eyes insult them with gleaming flesh we crush them with the air that touches our hips we cast our nets with fingers of rain and catch our guards – their veins are broken with tired impotence when with wondrous hands we map a woman’s topography the guards with their rifles with slightly opened rodent mouths are smothered in our movement – we foam their fantasies we blow the swampy water long hair wet slither in the air like whips crack the guards’ faces splash them with mud in pagan dance