Mama’s Motion
by Lola Sofi'
Trying to fulfill my youthful yearning to glide
I slide into the world of painfully thin bodies
with no tees, no thighs, no hips, no badonkie donks allowed.
I prowled around, making my way to the unseen
To glean just a little bit of Debbie from the instructor.
But what for, since I was the only one as such,
Old enough to be the mother of the mother
Of the teacher of the others, or at least
It felt that way.
So here I be, sweat gushing off of me
For no reason, other than me being in the season
Where mena meets pause, probably the cause
For me wearing these granny draws underneath my tights.
And yikes, how they have risen, even before I took
The position, the stance every dancer takes
Before she breaks into rhythmic moves,
But before I groove, I discreetly remove
the wedge, or at least I thought I did.
And now, she has the audacity to turn on the music
As I stand clueless to the wave of motion I'm supposed to know.
And so...I do what I do best, I fake it, F@$& it,
This is just a test to see if I still got it, get it.
And I got it alright, as I took into flight after a whirl
My twirl was awesome! … until I landed,
Stranded on the floor with teenaged eyes
Wondering if I had killed myself, but I hadn't, or at least
I believe I didn't.
And at that moment, I pushed my body up.
“Good luck”, I heard from the mouth of a babe
But bravely I rose to my feet, aching from chin to southern cheek
And taking it in, the feeling of utter disappointment,
The failure, the sin of trying to be young again.
I dusted off my leggings, put on a big grin
And waved as I exited the building,
Because I owned it.
Comments