Lost in the Disco Ball
No reason to fear the last or open
call. When Twyla picked me to dance
back in the 90’s, I died.
It was heaven
collapsing in the doorway
after the sweaty all-day
audition. Our rescue dog
Harley came from an open
call to adopt off the streets
of Tijuana so he could live
beloved at last. The film
I got cast to dance in
died despite Prince’s
soundtrack and his party like
it’s 1999 spirit. Pretty soon,
I’ll fly to London
with my reddest, sleep-
deprived eyes. In the past,
I’d call in sick if even
the wind upset my son.
Autism’s airier elements
blasting every sense
and direction. Does love
last a lifetime? I can tell you
sorry-ass is an overused expression
but Lang’s Metropolis
inspired a whole new chapter
of my novel. Like Rome,
I’m on fire. In a secret cupboard
behind the liquor cabinet
of my childhood home. Un-
stoppable. I can live
with less but not without
art. Also, I’m not always
good and it’s okay.
I wish there was a way
one of my brothers was still alive.
In the next chapter
of my novel, I’ll look
for them in London
sweating like dogs
in need of rescue. While I try
not to collapse in a doorway
watching them. Their sorry asses
dancing in the wind.
Michelle Bitting is the author of six poetry collections, including Nightmares & Miracles (Two Sylvias Press, 2022), winner of the Wilder Prize and named one of Kirkus Reviews‘ 2022 Best of Indie. Her chapbook Dummy Ventriloquist was published in 2024 by C & R Press. Recent poetry appears in Thrush, The Poetry Society of New York’s Milk Press, Catamaran, and SWWIM, and is featured as Poem of the Week in The Missouri Review. Bitting is writing a novel that centers around Los Angeles and her great grandmother, stage and screen actor Beryl Mercer, and is Senior Lecturer in Creative Writing and Literature at Loyola Marymount University.
