The star that wanders every evening shines
Within the lunatic's hysteria
That grows as fast as Southern kudzu vines,
Exposing pine cones in their mania.
The days demand the dancer shed her shame
And reinvent the rules to lure her out--
Emerging from her cave she shines the name
Of things that in becoming leave you doubt.
Back in the palace pleasure fears foment
And framed the world in awkward angle aimed
At tripping dancers who will not relent
At covering themselves and those they've claimed.
As you lie--listen to the sacred loon--
The dragon dines upon the dancing moon.