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"unclassy" poems
What happened to dancing? And I mean grooving Moving to the beat of the music not that back to front, raunchy, distasteful, vertical *** on the dancefloor foolishness I don't want any of that unclassy bending over ***** pressed up against a stranger, up in my face, I mean up in my behind business type of dancing. None of that too-close for comfort, get-a-room type of grind I want some of that smooth jazzy, hold my hand and spin me around moving, and I want some of that 80's finger-snappin', and some of those Breakfast Club hip-shaking, arm-gyrating What I don't get is why The moves from ***** Dancing seem cleaner than today's so-called dancing. I want to be able to go to a club And have enough space for myself and you to be dancing like we're dancing at home, with the privacy of our rooms I want to be able to dance, and let us return and have a much-needed cultural dance revolution where it doesn't have to be something your mama won't be ashamed of. I want some of that jiving, and more of that 70's finger-pointing, and fast-feet moving Man, I just want all of us to dance without it suggesting anything more than smooching.
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Oct 27, 2011
Oct 27, 2011 at 1:20 AM UTC
Dancing has Died
I miss our short lived tuesday nights because that was the life, we had to be right -locking ourselves up like clams on a rampage classy-unclassy; sipping trash and champagne, and fumble galloping into circus lights or hot into a lions mouth. Trapiezing through city crowds of clowns, trusting each others shaky hands.
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Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 11:41 PM UTC
"Key" to the High Life, or something like it.
you act like a ***** you gotta do actions. actions worth meaning meaning with gleaming, if they all get it then , then they all got it. if they all bought it who's gonna want it. you're **** is a pool , ****** unclassy. unwanted over flaunted. keep you're legs shut don't be a **** or when you grow old you'll just be some nut, act mean,. grow clean, you're only a freshman... bye falisha no BYE LATECIA!!
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Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 8:54 PM UTC
You're gonna be a cat lady
Stationed by belief As hungry carts push on Destined to the checkout lines with a fist of great deals Forgotten once cashed Repackaged in plastic wrap where flesh was once sacred Commercial clichés provoking the same old reflections and interests In the midst of clones and lapse of reason Controlled and reduced to produce more and more but the score lacks anything to do with the salvation found in art form As chained souls morn in the ashes of the wake We must transcend and break the links For these ties are the kind that bind minds I stand alienated and tongue tied as my mind's eye sets the grocery store into flames For the dependence and poison it bakes While trains of unclassy gluttonous tarts bump carts programmed to jump start Relinquishing will and spilling milk I cried out a river of chill
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May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 7:56 PM UTC
Runaway Train
you act like a ***** you gotta do actions. actions worth meaning meaning with gleaming, if they all get it then , then they all got it. if they all bought it who's gonna want it. you're **** is a pool , ****** unclassy. unwanted over flaunted. keep you're legs shut don't be a **** or when you grow old you'll just be some nut, act mean,. grow clean, you're only a freshman... bye falisha no BYE LATECIA!!
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May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 8:29 PM UTC
From Jessica applegate