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Time Travel
by
Mary Kellagher

 
With calendars we are flying blind
in a cobbled beechcraft that can barely get off the ground.
The tail drops

and the navigation system is
regarded affectionately
as a dishwasher used to store bread
and hide presents till
Christmas.

You cannot enter the minds
of your ancestors
without astrology.
It never occurred to them
that it would one day be discarded.
There was nothing occult about it,
except the call to go out in the night
and map its movements-
to follow the night
as the most accurate
instrument for calculating time,

and practice the night
every day.

I've dreamed for years
of one day being able to dance the cumbia-
an older
soft person's version,
with someone I'm nuts about.

I've seen young men
penetrating the adult sphere,
3 or 4 in a row,
executing with godly grace
domino dance steps on wheels
like guitarists joining in
on popular riffs-


sentient planets
wrapped in a moment of
pure pleasure,
delighting everyone at the rink,
all circling the same flashing
disco ball
with eyes following them.




--Submitted by Mary Pat Kellagher on 2011-07-09.
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