D. N. Bloom
And the Mischievous Ocean, Tired of Serious Thinkers, Calls You to Dance
Yes, you, the creature in the red satin dress. For only you
would truly understand how to participate in the frolicking mirth
while those intellectual brainstormers in their black turtlenecks
would sit and ponder the meaning of The Dance.
Not you, my sunshine child of the glittery night! You'd go
with the flow and play in the crashing waves. Those wordy
fingersnapping folks would drown like rats on a sinking ship. For
they are truly too serious to understand what the ocean has in
store for a world-class goddess of the early morning moonlight.
You'd kick off those Ferragamo pumps and throw them into the
white frothy waves and watch them float away in the ribald sea.
That dress of yours would swirl and play among the shattered
ruins of the underclass who lost everything as the hurricane of life
destroyed their minuscule lives. For they could hardly afford to
play on that big roulette wheel of Time.
Copyright © 1994 D. N. Bloom
