The Spin and The Balance

A Poem by aj Foxley

trying to write outside my comfort zone. this time it is depressing stuff. and math that doesnt need to be calculated.

the spin and the balance

a single like a bullet, different weights and different speeds.
knifes through the air like a ballerina on a ducati.
some tiny girl in a tutu, throttle pinned, engine screaming,
a modest girl, toes en pointe on the shifters, jackknifing through traffic.
it all works, you say, it works, as the cops go screaming by.
see how they go where they want to go, so graceful?

they never crash, they never falter, they never fly too close to the sun.
they move forward, in their own way, and it works.

Now the couple, stands dancing, a classic austrian step,
in new style, a frantic pace.
See how they hold each other so closely?
See how they move with such authority?
like clockwork, but not, so sad.
She flies, with angle, spin, and speed,
and so does he, but not exact.
eventually it fights.
the dance falters.
it spins.
then, in one moment, it plummets, like a jet with three engines and one wing,
and the forces pull the couple apart.
the strain, we measure.
the pull, we measure.
how much they must want to let go.
now we see the engines smoking, the noises.
they are screaming at each other, both being affected by the other.
will they compensate?
of course. they are the dancers, the pilots.
their course will never touch the ground, will never knock over the musicians.

But can they ever balance?
Can they ever fly straight?
can they ever waltz across the ballroom,
miss all the other dancers,
and end up where they wanted?
breathless, smiling?

God, I hope so.