We dance.
Marla’s choice of music.
The Beatles.
‘Can’t Buy Me Love’.
Marla says,
Sure, will you smile, for Christ’s sake.
There’s no use dancing if you’re not going to mean it.
There’s no use having a high kick
and fast twirl
if you’re going to look like a miserable mallard.
Who pissed in your pond anyway?
She gyrates and gestures,
closes her eyes
and grins.
John Lennon always makes
me cream myself.
Marla!
What? Well he does.