It was my parents’ 17th anniversary, a night for outward ‘I-love-you’s and inward ‘what-was-I-thinking’s. These anniversary dinners out as a family were standard: eat something expensive, maybe have dessert, then my parents might dance to prerecorded entertainment or a sullen piano player.
Little could any of us have known that, that night we would all be dancing…
Dancing, that is, with a partner named Death!
When he’s not terrorizing my family, Death enjoys choreographing routines for the local cheerleading squad. This might be the year they go to the tri-state finals!
Because writing poetry, as far as my own abilities go, ranks right up there with fixing a car, mental telepathy or even basic mathematics, I can only read and share the works of others.
The following is an excerpt from the poem, Having A Coke With You, by the insightful and tragic Frank O’Hara.