- Sonnet for the Instructor at Verticality Pole Fitness in Houston, TX
The pole dance class is on: tonight at eight.To loose our hips for shaking, we spina screw through the cork, a bottle of white,talk about what my husband said: Stopcalling it stripper-obics. You’re not going to strip.And then, Are you? We walk in hands coveringour grins, disappear behind a silk slipof curtain to place our keys, our silverrings in darkened drawers. You dim the lights,your loose hair pouring and splashing the brass,you swirl around like ice in a glass. Elongate,you whisper, lifting my hand like the pole’s a stem,a toast to motion impossible to stop,my first twirl a spray, bubbles after a pop. [End Page 14]
Dorsey Craft recently graduated with an MFA in poetry from McNeese State University. Her poems have appeared in Deep South Magazine, Cactus Heart, and Barn Owl Review.