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The Dust Dancers
1
When the morning heat is plain as the face
Flaunting its teeth on the next billboard but one,
The dust dancers dance.
Radio stations keep fading
As you head on westward.
The dust dancers dance
To the tune beneath the hood of your car.
Farmers paint MERAMEC CAVERNS
In big white letters
On the roofs of barns.
The dust dancers dance in the mouth of the cave
And cool off.
Did the dust dancers say
What they would dance?
No, a broken-down pick-up truck was chugging ahead
And the dust dancers said only
That they’d be dancing,
And we honked and left the pick-up behind.
Here is the junction
With the unpaved road
To the dust dancers’ house.
It is a long way off and full of ruts.
They are not at home.
They are dancing a dance.
They are dancing a dance
On the hitchhiker’s rucksack.
Exhaust fumes linger beside the highway.
The dust dancers go
Slower and slower,
No matter how fast the cars whip past.
Lakes fill the middle distance
And are blotted up again.
The dust dancers
Are dancing in a sunshower,
Mouths open to the rain.
One of the truckers drinking Dr. Pepper
Has a hole in his jeans.
The dust dancers knock their knees together.
Lights go on above gas pumps.
A kid with acne wipes the dirt from your windshield.
He checks the oil.
The dust dancers dance
Whenever the bell
Rings off a gallon.
At the motel
You stretch out flat
In a room which looks like a room on TV.
Outside, the buses are thumping the highway.
The dust dancers dance “one, two…” to the beat.
The radio preachers say their prayers.
Then comes the static
-And the dust dancers dancing.
You get up to get a glass of water.
Some of the dust dancers
Are dancing in the air-conditioner,
The rest leap through the NO VACANCY sign.
They leave their old shoes beside your bed,
In need of a shine.
2
The dust dancers do not exist.
3
The return of the dust dancers.
4
Sleepless beasts stare through barbed wire.
The dust dancers are coming,
Dancing along.
Jack Anderson