Da-dada-dum

I feel as if my head has become a percussion instrument: a drum, a cymbal... an Irishman's feet atop a bar table. Bang, boom ,boom bang!--Lets both dance the Rumba. My heart beats so fast I cannot feel my pulse, my blood boils for you.

Dance, dance, dance, dance. A cold sweat is my treasured gift to mankind.

And I'm falling--watch me fly, I flap with paper wings. The dark abyss is frightening, exhilarating; I love it yet flap all the same. If I fall I'll break a leg and, as we all know, that’s a horrible way of greeting.

"Hello Earth."

"Hello Human, break a leg."

*Splat*

My head is breaking now, the brain within a knead glob of jello. If brains were jello I'm convinced mine would be green apple: green because of the sickness of my own duality; apple, for the intoxication of my cider soul.

Dance, dance, dance! Won't you reappear for me? My feet are raw with tapping, the blood gushes forth from the heels and the toes. Heel and toe, heel and toe, la-lala-la-lala-la-la-la! Right hand is falling off, left hand is gone away already and, no matter what, I steadfastly refuse to slap my knees. Swing my body round and round, lets do it all again.