Remember record players
… that velvety, crackly sound they spun
I loved mine; gave it a place in the sun.
Added the special attachment for playing 45s, I’d
turn up the sound
and d a n c e for hours.
Swing, twist and c r o o n
swim, shrug and bop.
I’d dance my heart out
Sing, w a i l and strut,
deep dip and s w o o n.
I’d D A N C E I T Up .
I remember my screech at cat when he scratched
my favorite whirling record while I,
little spider in white Go Go boots,
a dancing dervish, shimmied and shook,
cat adoring me from sun streaked window seat,
me in those boots, those boys singing with me,
my dancing unquestionably good.