The rush
The grace
The feeling I get when I dance
My heart beating faster and faster and faster
Until everything falls silent

Its me
And the music
Just Me
And the rhythm

My heart is beating, my feet are moving
My head is spinning, I hit it
A switch turns on inside of me
I’m in it to win it now
I want that platinum, I want to make you proud of me
I want to be the dancer you want me to be
But ballet, thats not it.

You ruined this, you told me I wasn’t good enough
Point your toes,
lift your chin,
hold your leg higher
Do this, do that. Who cares?
Do I look like a prima ballerina to you?
I am not tall, I am not lanky
I am not skinny, I am not light
And I’m sorry but I have *****.

You can push me,
Stretch me, pull me in all different directions
To do what?
Make me more flexible, more graceful, more
you

You have beaten me down with your words,
so much that the one thing I loved most in the world
has slowly been slipping away from me
Dance doesn’t define who I am,
It is who I am.
Dance is me
I am dance

I’m big *****, I have strong muscles
I’m not graceful, when you tell me to hit it hard,
I hit it with intensity, with power
Don’t ask me to prance around in a pink tutu.
I won’t.
Put me in harem pants, and a baggy sweatshirt
Throw some beats down
And I’ll groove it
Pop it, slide it, lock it
Sharp sharp smooooooth
So many different moves,
Some don’t even have names
No Fouetté, or jeté
No relevé, or adagio
What do these even mean?
Do I look french to you?

I’d rather body roll
Chest pop
And just let my body do the talking
I don’t dance to impress you
I don’t dance to please your needs
I don’t dance for high scores
I dance to express the words I cannot speak

risky are you little summerspring

          ?wetbetween and eager for


(legs and fingers)

ivory, littlesummerspring, are you

and soft as

smooooooth as

long little summerspring spread

cherry and pink

cherryandpink little summerspring




                                                                                                                                                          




                                                                                                                                                              (and wet)

it's english, what do you care? you **** it!

oh, you already said your
"thank you",
it's about time that
i say my: *******!

i just remember punching a wall, and
the home office legitimates
complimenting me in my computer...
now you have your somali
asian indian muslim "illegits"...
well done, good luck,
as

   the i.r.a. might say: riddle your
own own stupidity!

try reasoning with someone kid
prior to being aged a teen (13)...

you can't reason with these children!
you can't! you think some stupid
monarchal parade will stop them
acting what they feel
as the other blue-blooded "arisocrat"?
they're cold blooded!

   you're not going to stop them
you idiots!
          no matter what the current
generation says: akin to:
i'm not going to pay for the sins of my
forefathers...

   oooh... oh ****... you're gonna pay...
it's the justification clause...
not quiete the american
   constitution ammendment...
you're gonna pay...
  mind you... you know
  why they're not touching
the poles?
   haven't you heard?
   weren't the poles exposed
    to the teutonic crusades?!

honestly? serves you right, *****-slapping
that ******-smirk off your face...
all it suggests is: another punch!
what?
   i'm trying to pluck the fruits
                                       off a plum tree!

me? i'd be cobnsidered collateral "damage"...
the "no man's land": the so called
caught in the middle...
           2nds first, thirsty last -
          you tattoo that ******* emblem
into your arm, i'll chop it off,
******* ******.

                              you be goldi-locks
lucky to have the evolutionary canvas of
8+ billion that doesn't see us
extinct... ******* ferris wheel & theme
park of gay: the oops 'e' daisy...
why god and the hatred of ****?
   isn't it obvious?
   might as well jest at impregnating
a wolf with human *****, how's that?
not going to bother with the idea?
well then: ****... is just ow... just nice.

why do you think?
you defending **** because you'd be alive
if it was "normal" 10,000 years ago?
     i can only say the word: priv. regarding it...
you sure we're on the same planet?
   the same orb?
    i'm not so sure...
     if we allowed homosexuality as a social
norm back then:
  YOU WOULDN'T BE HERE BY
                                        MY ESTIMATE!
                     you'd be a short-lived
tissue experience of an albino tadpole...
****!
                 no! i won't stop cursing to amuse
an american baptist preacher!
                    *******!

this is the part where i stop writing and
play the hand-gesture game of
fishing for a bunch of wankers...
      sure i ****...
  i can't see a benevolent women
to surrogate my arm in the vicinity either;
but for ****'s sake i'm sure
there's a women, willing to *******
her womb for a surrogate intermediate baby
between two hopefuls of **** bashers;

so... well done... clap clap...
         much ado about the need,
but otherwise case for *applause;
my my, hasn't prostitution become oh so
very much, so oh so refined!

tour de france:
cudowne dziecko dwóch pedałów -

tour of france:
the glorious child of two pedals

(gay? pedał!) -

so you want me to become sincere in talking
about it - within the frame of a +
of not becoming agitated physically?
   can't some sort of "anger" (joke) be entertained
in the written sense without the fist?
is is that: well, if you censor me here,
i might as well snap my knuckles
and levy a punch... yes? nod nod ah ha?

personally?
i remember kissing this guy in a nightclub
one night,
then going to a birthday party
and seeing him there...
i left early...
   why? a homophobic woman started
asking me whether i minded gays...
it wasn't the gay guy i kissed
that made me feel a pinch of nausea...
it was a woman...
with her question regarding whether
i minded gay men...
              *****! i haven't got beef with them!
but if the journalistic narratives keeps
tugging at the victorian
19th century "affair": i'll be calling
the resurrection of joe merrick!

   i would have stayed at the party, after all
it was my cousin's birthday party...
what gift did i bring? a fiction novel
about smoking...
   prior? buying cigarettes for an oliver crew
of kids... i didn't short-change them...
the leader said: huh?
and i said: camel cigarettes, i paid extra,
they're better than was you asked for...
imagine: smooooooth.

no, but i really did ******* from the party
when this girl started asking
in her heterosexual way of wanting to be
laid, asking if i was **** or straight...
      is there such a thing as feminaphobia?
after that sort of experience?
                             there better be one!

no... and i don't want to get it...
                        never have, never will...
what was she doing at a gay party anyway?
pushing ******?!