Congealed globs of crusted apple pie
slipped down our grinning chins and
we licked the tins of metal,
capturing in our minds eye
the melt and might of
full on
American pride.
We wore our tin hats proudly,
standing at attention
like battle hardened soldiers
dodging flannel napkin grenades
and russet potato bullets.
Exhausted
we crumpled onto the lawn,
the dog licking our war wounds
before the party began.
At 8PM it started.
Dancers of every variety, shape, color, and size
descended upon the backyard
coming from afar;
The Castenetti’s from Mulberry way
The Haycock\'s off Longview
and the Delbert\'s from down on Cedar.
The music wakened us from
the eternal slumbers of everyday life
and we went from sleepy mummies to
pantheon gladiators
in a series of single beats.
We were alive!
On our feet!
Ready!
Bop, bop, bop, beep, boom, bop!
the beat emanated
and so did we.
Jewelry dangled
hair darted violently, dresses became possessed,
and dips, swirls, and pirouettes ruled the canvas,
clothes like water colors mixing to
the beat of a different drum.
They moved fast
and faster!
Nobody could catch them
not even Charlemagne, Zeus, Josephat, or God almighty.
They danced, and danced, and danced
until the only source of light was the moon.
And then they danced some more.
Panting all together now
their breaths shallowed, shortened,
and slowed
until finally
the exhales collapsed
like dominos of little deaths
leaving just the trees swaying
the crickets chiming
and the soft breeze blowing,
as if to say
job well done.
Our little slice of heaven
there on Grico Court
shined so bright that night
the people clear across town in Skokie
were able to see it. Some say even those in Hong Kong
and Katmandu caught wind of it.
Heard the music.
We convinced the world that night
that there wasn’t anything wrong with the
people from across the street.
They didn’t look like us
but they were like us
in every way.
It only took a wave to find out.