Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

Tag Archive for ‘Prop’


Grand jeté sweep to the pole, she moves like a Balanchine girl. I imagine her   with me at the Butler Street Y, where I once rehearsed despite heat on sticky basketball floors. Cheap rubber shoes marked legs and hands as we jazz rolled on the boards. We ran piece after piece until tall boys, leaning and leering, balls to palms, displaced us with gym echo shouts   not unlike […]

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