to watch our feet, trace a box on brown linoleum. How could we imagine the heat and throb
of 1976 Seattle, “You should be dan-cing, yeah!” inflaming the hormone-thickened air of Shelly’s Leg,
where, for a while, we shed our shoes, our masks, danced with anyone to Donna Summer, Wild Cherry, LaBelle,
all so alive, our urgent hips, gliding steps, innocent leaves unfurled — not yet, in our millions, fallen.
Twice nominated for Pushcart and Best of the Net awards, J.I. Kleinberg is an artist, poet, and freelance writer whose poems have been published in print and online journals worldwide. She lives in Bellingham, Washington, USA, and posts occasionally on Instagram @jikleinberg.