from Saccharine

…like it’s 1999

Teeth turned topsy

flapping night hands

a dance for evening

heads adjacent

glistering of upturned chins

moonlit hips sway

unbuckled knees

light toe taps

the concrete groove

moving beatbox takes the stage

fingers thrum

the rhythm cardiac

readying four and eight steppers

for fallen skies or skidded knees

found worlds hold at the center

rough, smooth

cast aside in raucous anticipation

when the box plays tomorrow,

we will be here

waiting

on restless feet.