Guest Poet Sheila Ferguson

Street Dance

He asks what costume she will wear
tonight, laughs when she shows him
black leather pants and boots, topped off
with a red leather vest. He shakes
his head and goes to work. When he comes home
that night, he brings fake tattoos - skulls, crossbones.
He takes a long chain, wraps it around
both their waists, locks the ends together, hangs
an eight ball from the center, between them.

The street dance is in full gear when they arrive.
They take in Dylan, Cocker, Carnes - with their lusty,
crusty voices. On to the next corner where the young,
wearing their no-fear t-shirts buy Meatloaf. The two of them
applaud when they hear the kids join in with their current idol 
"But I won't do that."

January, 1999

Sheila Ferguson's Questions:

I would appreciate any comments you may have. Thank You.

APW's Questions:

Can you visualize the costume they are wearing? What is it?

Correspond with Sheila Ferguson at
with your ideas about this poem.

The Albany Poetry Workshop