Plastic performance of Olympic proportions.
as I shed. Let the reframing begin.
I’ve kind of felt like these dancers swimming round in the trash to make their point.
Beauty for ashes.
Ashes for beauty.
As I perform my swan dive into our old trashy story. Make you gasp. And recoil until you see me pop Up threw the trash heap. Spinning and twirling. Not daunted by all that’s trashy.
Oh yeah I’m a flashy. Dashy. As I swim around and around till my Mama see a swan not a duckling.
Oh how I long to dance before mother. Lessons taking away from this duckling. I struggled dancing before strangers. Thought to clumsy, but just frightened no Mama to dance for. I knew who my Mamas was and she was not there to see me.
So I danced in a field by a stream. Hoping god would see and show this tinny dancer was dancing for thee.