Bare feet stomp on dirt
gettin’ dirty, like it dirty
black soled and walnut shouldered
chestnut hair and morena skin
and it is beautiful
and filthy?
We dance because
we were made to:
sweat and stank
gyrate and moan
honey jive and butterfly
We move as anthropologists of our own motion
Columbus’s of our nations
Tolstoy’s of our stories
Buddha’s of our hearts
In another timeline,
Buddha escaped full lotus
traded silence for the Bodhi trees music
In another plane,
Tolstoy paused during Anna Karenina
to shake his sorrowful ass
In another dimension,
Columbus gave up the search of silk and spice
just to dance the tarantella on his Italian soil
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