I really wish people
would dance at receptions.
It’s awful, trying to make conversation
and hard to forgive one another.
A valiant person should dance,
and let anyone else stand and watch
like someone judgmental out of Milton.
It’s like we’re just so much baggage to our skeletons
even though we climbed them
our whole lives long.
I like those videos where the chimpanzee mother
slings her baby onto her back
for him to hold on to nothing but hair.
I’m trying to remember if I ever
had a good time at a reception.
I’ve wanted to be like my friends
with beautiful chest tattoos
who go topless in blizzards.
They know they’re a form of art
and the world’s worst wine
can’t ruin them.
I imagine a goatherd
at the reception.
Dance like that.
Have you ever held
in your palm the hoof
of a baby goat? I bet you have.
It’s like holding a perfect spoon made of hair.
Should we leave?
We shouldn’t leave.
Someone is going to say something
regrettable,
and one of us will choke.
It’s all we can do
to save one another.
Lee Upton is the author of the novel “Tabitha, Get Up” and the poetry collection “The Day Every Day Is.”
