go-go dancing to Rob Zombie

from russia with love
inna moves like waves
in the
deep black sea,
brandishing long strands
of soft dark hair
flush from side to side
(a controlled torrential
storm),
white t-shirt tied in a
knot at the waste that
bringing out the tight
stomach, accentuates
the curve of her hips
as she stretches along
the light oak floor,
moving in sync with
the industrial beat,
muscles flexing out
with every loud shout
of the synthesizer,
arms flailing out &
round with every
guitar twang passed
through the wa-wa
pedal---she commands
the empty dance room,
she reigns alone as she
practices her moves to
one day dominate a
world stage.