And We Could Dance
You danced like you
were kissed by lightning.
I wonder if you danced in your kitchen
as you wound the washing line around your throat.
Were you humming “Nightclubbing”
as you tied the loop shut?
Or did you tap out the beat to “Funtime” on the chair
before you danced on the air?
Maybe you were tempted, at the end,
with visions of reunion tours;
video hagiographies of your life
as a living saint; photographs of you
fat and happy,
dining with David Bowie in the shadow of
the Times Square New Year’s Ball drop,
toasting the new millennium?
If you saw that highlight reel flash before your eyes,
did it make you reconsider taking that last step?
Or did it make you feel like dancing?