Dancer

Dancer

 

In her Purple Sari of royal colour,

she comes with husband or with lover,

by hotel pools to film each other

ready to get up and do her thing -

but no swimming.

In epic fail to get wet,

models decorative ankle bracelet,

of Eastern silver or rolled gold,

perhaps right modest, right delicate,

in ornamental filigree -

and dances solo her latest flambé.

Strikes poses taken off the shelf,

taking selfies of herself,

flinging arms, throwing shapes

twists to Bollywood soundscapes.

Her camera tracks her as she goes,

it tilts and pans and flirts,

while husband-lover Striped-Shirt

is by jacuzzi, on the steps,

remembering never to forget

to stand before her in a trance,

a posey by the potted plants.

Flick water at her and you'd feel

a fountain in an eightsome reel,

but already she’s on a call

and pouting - happy for all

 to share her weighty exchange

and never finds it strange

that nothing ever really changed.

Once, a fledgling wanted to bring

joy to the world, influencer

crossing waters, a tiny dancer

and happy slapper

be one of those clowns

that jump-scared towns

when that was still a thing.

Shaky-cam, maybe travel worlds

filming Filipino street food,

posts room upgrades on YouTube,

TikTok, Instagram, X -

adds bagged laugh sound effects

that echo with joke shop emptiness

and reverberate inside hollow heads.