I might seem quite well-adapted
To the people that I meet,
A respectable consumer
You could pass on any street;
But just check beneath the surface
And you’ll see that something’s lacking:
I am walking over breaking ice
And all I hear is cracking.
I have terrible misgivings
That this smile of mine conceals:
I feel just like Ginger Rogers
Dancing backwards in high heels.
I’ve been working for a living
Ever since I was sixteen,
Toiling one way or another,
Though the fruits I’ve not much seen;
Like a monkey on a palm tree,
Like a hamster in a cage,
Like the drone in some loud beehive,
I’ve been robbed at every stage.
When they come to take the census,
I shall hint at how it feels,
When I list my occupation:
“Dancing backwards in high heels.”
They are liquored up in Congress,
Doped to death in Beverly Hills;
If it isn’t the Jack Daniels
Then it’s certainly the pills;
When they’re backed into a corner
And their options always stink,
Then it’s really not surprising
People turn to drugs and drink;
No one’s staying on the wagon
When it’s always losing wheels,
But it’s hard when you’re not sober—
Dancing backwards in high heels.
We’re all seeking a way forward,
We’re all looking for the light,
We’re all pulling up our bootstraps,
We’re all working through the night,
We’re all trying to be better,
Watching courses, buying books,
But we’ve found out that perfection’s
Not as simple as it looks,
And this thing called self-improvement
Isn’t worth a bag of eels—
“Seven Ways to Be Effective
Dancing Backwards in High Heels.”
We are laboring on life’s treadmill,
Trudging every day that comes,
But the people in high places
Are convinced we’re simply bums
That they have to micromanage
Like bacteria or slime,
Just in case we might embezzle
A few minutes of their time,
So, we entertain them daily
Like blasé performing seals,
Catching any fish they’ll throw us,
Dancing backwards in high heels.
I think most people are honest
To a moderate degree,
With some paragons of virtue
(I refer to you and me!),
But there’s no one’s road that’s easy,
Be they virtuous or foul,
Which is why the rich and mighty
Seem so predisposed to scowl;
Even New York’s greatest gangster
Can’t keep everything he steals,
It’s too hard to get those books straight,
Dancing backwards in high heels.
There are people in big houses,
There are people in small shacks,
There are those who watch portfolios,
And those who watch their backs;
There is heartbreak in high places,
Trouble on the factory floor:
We are all in this together,
Be we wealthy, be we poor.
Though Dame Fortune’s got a lot of cards,
There’s just one hand that she deals:
Everybody’s Ginger Rogers,
Dancing backwards in high heels.
John the Baptist kept his nose clean
In the desert far from town
And he tried to warn the people
What he thought was going down;
He avoided all temptation,
Be it money, sex, or meat,
And he preached purification
With no shoes upon his feet;
But they chopped his head off anyway,
The book of Mark reveals,
For a showgirl named Salome,
Dancing backwards in high heels.
Now, I’ve made my lamentation
On the state of human woe,
And I ought to take it further,
But wherever would I go?
There’s no deus ex machina,
There’s no justice in the land,
And if one thing’s not transparent
It’s that famous unseen Hand;
But my case would never make it
To the Court of Last Appeals:
No, you don’t get compensation,
Dancing backwards in high heels.
I’ve conceived a celebration
When they lay me to my rest,
And it gives me satisfaction
Just to contemplate this jest:
I’ll have Dixies’ fastest jazz band
To provide a sense of cheer,
And then sixteen milk-white horses
Bringing barrels full of beer,
Forty circus clowns in costume,
Prancing wild high-stepping reels,
Six strong men to bear my coffin—
Dancing backwards in high heels.
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“Sure he was great, but don't forget that Ginger Rogers did everything that he did… backwards and in high heels.” Bob Thaves in “Frank and Ernest” comic strip, 1982.
ReplyDeleteThis poem is great. I am inviting myself to your funeral I will wear high heels for the occasion.
ReplyDeleteOMG I got to the last line and still wanted more
ReplyDelete"But we’ve found out that perfection’s
Not as simple as it looks,"
Happy Wednesday Graham
much love...
This is amazing, I could have danced (backwards in heels) all night, and still have wanted more. And I will leave it at that!
ReplyDeleteEveryone knows my penchant for rhyme, so they must know my joy at reading this marvelous poem. The thyme and rhythm is fabulous and it cries to be read aloud. As for the "backward in high heels" -- it reminded me of the time my husband danced me backward in my high heels against the raised stage platform where the band played and I ended up sitting unceremoniously on my keester with the woofers and tweeters of their sound equipment! (Needless to say my husband ended up in the doghouse!)
ReplyDeleteOh, what fun – albeit serious too – and the rhythm has a lovely dancing feel.
ReplyDeleteA thought-provoking and fun rhyme from beginning to end.
ReplyDeleteKick off your shoes and enjoy the backward moves. I chuckled about poor old John the Baptist, there was no warning, a his plight shouldn't be laughed at. If it happens to me I also want a silver platter for my head. I worked for all that came to me except for room and board until I left home.
ReplyDeleteNow I am retired, at least until my money runs out. That means take things like they come with a right to complain.
Like your rhyme, Good Job!!
..
I wish I could dance backwards and wear high heels, but my feet won’t let me!
ReplyDeleteThis needs to be a folk song ASAP. I wanted to sing some of these verses.
ReplyDelete