WEBVTT

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One more.

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Do the poets in Arizona dance?

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Yes, do they do--
any of them dance?

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Poets, said Brian Wilson,
always go out and dance.

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This poem is called
Dancing With Poets.

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"Dancing With Poets"

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The accident is what he calls
the time he threw himself

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from a window four
floors up, breaking

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his back and both ankles,

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so that walking became
the direst labor

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for this man who takes
my hand, invites me

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to the empty strip of floor
that fronts the instruments.

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A length of polished wood,
the shape of a grave.

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Unsuited for this world,

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his body bears the marks of it,

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his hand is tense with
effort and with shame.

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And I shy away from any
audience, but I love to dance.

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And soon we find a way
to move, drifting apart

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as each affects a
different ripple

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across the floor, a
plaid and a stripe

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to match the solid
navy of the band.

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And suddenly the band is
getting better, so pleased

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to have this pair of dancers,
since we made visible

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the music in the noise,
and the dull pulse

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leaps with unexpected
riffs and turns.

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We can hear how good
the keyboard really

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is, the bright cresting of
another major key as others

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join us.

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A strict block of a man, a
formidable cliff of man dancing

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as if melted, as if unhinged.

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His partner a gift
of brave elegance

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to those who watch her dance,
and at her elbow Berryman back

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from the bridge, and Frost
relieved of grievances,

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Dickinson waltzing there
with lavish Keats, who coughs

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into a borrowed handkerchief.

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All the poets of exile and
despair, unfit for this life,

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all those who cannot
speak, but only sing,

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all those who cannot walk,
who strut and spin until

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the waiting citizens at
the bar, aloof, judgmental,

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began to sway or drum
their straws or hum,

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leave their seats to crowd the
narrow floor, and now we are

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one body, sweating and foolish,

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one body with its clear
pathetic grace, not lifted

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out of grief but dancing it,

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transforming for one
night this local bar,

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before we turned back out
to our separate selves,

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to the dangerous
streets and houses,

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to the overwhelming drone
of the living world.

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[APPLAUSE]

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Thank you.

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[APPLAUSE]

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