Tiny Dancer

Tonight, one of my favorite television shows, Dancing with the Stars (DWTS) kicked off its new season. Ten years ago I would have shaken my head in disbelief if someone had told me I would ever write that sentence. That I like DWTS was a surprise to me in the beginning, but I do. As I said in a previous post, I can’t carry a tune, and while I wasn’t exactly a ballerina growing up, I knew the rhythm of a basketball court and the way to play a mean piano tune or two. I’m sad to say, that resume probably qualifies me to be a contender on the show this season over many of this week’s contestants.

I was disappointed going into this season with the flock of celebrity dancers competing, as it seemed as if they traded their usual gathering up of “celebrity has-beens” for “celebrity-who’s?” But one contestant stood out, and not in a good way. When former House Majority Leader, Tom Delay, tried to shake his conservative Texas boobs/stomach/booty region, (trust me, all three looked and gyrated like one congealed jell-o shot) on live national television—the gag reflex kicked in. Honestly, it was ugly, like watching a 73 year old Councilman Marion Barry get arrested for stalking his ex-girlfriend (this summer), but I digress…back to Delay:

Here are the first three things out of the mouths of the three judges after watching his performance, in order: “You are crazier than Sarah Palin,” says Bruno Tonioli, himself, hands down the craziest judge on the panel. A more diplomatic Carrie Anne Inaba said, “That was surreal,” which is exactly what I was thinking, followed by “Parts were mantic, parts were tragic,” from veteran professional and consummate gentleman, Len Goodman. Yikes. My only hope is that he is voted out early.

Let me put it bluntly: The ONLY thing I want to see shimmy from a Washington, DC representative is her lovely branches…here is a poem dedicated to my favorite place and view in the city I have come to call my second home. I fell in love with this place in college, just northwest of Lincoln, slightly north of the Vietnam Memorial on the mall and generally overlooked by tourists. I visited it on bike recently.

The Performer

The wind exhales

beneath a shallow sky

and the weeping willow

hangs a sheer moon-gown

loosely about her frail frame.


Flailing in a jagged ballet

bending bows fumble in the wind

each shaken leaf dancing

in tempestuous rhythm.

Stung with water

in an unexpected drizzle

she quickens the pace.

Raindrops beat into their seas

an enduring symphony

played upon her fragile arms.

The sullen tree moves her branches

passionately mourning

the loss of her children

to the change of season.