Black Hawk Gets Down

Ok boys! Shoot at the dancers in the night!
You see? The Black Hawk gets down and swirls it down, baby!
You better shoot at the dancers in the night.
Look up, and look down. But don’t you get down!
You disgusting wall flowers; sipping your own blood.
You just watch that Black Hawk!

:: Light snap. Sound snap ::

What was that?! Did I just dance?
I did. Ah shit! Place me on the wall so death can save me.
We dance in the dark not knowing the way.
Plucking our own feathers. It’s a damn marching of the mulch.
Holding back this dying city with some dead moves. I killed for this pillow.
Then was perfectly shot by a dancer in the night.
I fought well. I didn’t just try. I will not make it to tell the story myself.
It’s nothing, this lot… Too weak to explain.
Don’t save me. Please don’t save me.
Don’t add my peace to your panic.
I can be still as a brick. This is my last sip.
Goddamn, them black birds can dance!

by Mk.

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Poetry at the Movies