Dance Fever

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Whenever “I Gotta Woman” plays on Pandora

while we’re in front of computers in our places on the couch

your eyebrows

like little hairy Fred Astaires

begin to raise and lower, wiggle and straighten

Your neck, shoulders, and hips get to shake-a-shakin next

(the cat scurries off of your lap at this point)

followed soon after by the arms, and finally the legs

the base of this clumsy new being

by the time the sax shows up

all of you has been recruited

and your dancing with every bone, muscle, and joint of your body

grinning dumbly like your some kind of

musical Golem that can’t help himself.

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