National Poetry Month: ON DANCING by Elizabeth Robinson
by Elizabeth Robinson
a flavor draining down one’s throat,
the exudates of sound and waltz.
God said dancing was no elixir and was
befouled with its own suspicions
until the angel reclaimed its
message, having traveled through
you, where you heard the harmony and
your movement tutored, told
God how to swallow.
This poem is from issue 37.2. You may purchase a copy here.