There is solace in the motion of your hips.
Swaying back and forth in time to the rhythm of the music.
It's a fast beat, the bass pulsating
a heart
beat through the floor.
I can feel it in my bones.
All I can think of while you dance.
Is how your butt looks fantastic in those jeans.
Your hair whips around like a helicopter.
Strands of blue and brown catch the multicolor light.
Flashing rainbows.
The floor is littered with empty beer cans and discarded cigarettes.
The dingy crustaceans on the wall staring at the sea of people.
Their ornery glares lost in the drunken mob of strangers.
The jukebox plays a slow song.
I think fuck it.
Maybe I'll take that dance.
***This one we were given 6 words that had to be in the poem. The six words were Solace, Butt, Helicopter, Crustaceans, Ornery, and Fuck.
