One more.
Do the poets in Arizona dance?
Yes, do they do-- any of them dance?
Poets, said Brian Wilson, always go out and dance.
This poem is called Dancing With Poets.
"Dancing With Poets"
The accident is what he calls the time he threw himself
from a window four floors up, breaking
his back and both ankles,
so that walking became the direst labor
for this man who takes my hand, invites me
to the empty strip of floor that fronts the instruments.
A length of polished wood, the shape of a grave.
Unsuited for this world,
his body bears the marks of it,
his hand is tense with effort and with shame.
And I shy away from any audience, but I love to dance.
And soon we find a way to move, drifting apart
as each affects a different ripple
across the floor, a plaid and a stripe
to match the solid navy of the band.
And suddenly the band is getting better, so pleased
to have this pair of dancers, since we made visible
the music in the noise, and the dull pulse
leaps with unexpected riffs and turns.
We can hear how good the keyboard really
is, the bright cresting of another major key as others
join us.
A strict block of a man, a formidable cliff of man dancing
as if melted, as if unhinged.
His partner a gift of brave elegance
to those who watch her dance, and at her elbow Berryman back
from the bridge, and Frost relieved of grievances,
Dickinson waltzing there with lavish Keats, who coughs
into a borrowed handkerchief.
All the poets of exile and despair, unfit for this life,
all those who cannot speak, but only sing,
all those who cannot walk, who strut and spin until
the waiting citizens at the bar, aloof, judgmental,
began to sway or drum their straws or hum,
leave their seats to crowd the narrow floor, and now we are
one body, sweating and foolish,
one body with its clear pathetic grace, not lifted
out of grief but dancing it,
transforming for one night this local bar,
before we turned back out to our separate selves,
to the dangerous streets and houses,
to the overwhelming drone of the living world.
[APPLAUSE]
Thank you.
[APPLAUSE]