No Second Acts

" No Second Acts "

by Suzán Jiván
Mom & Mom-
Mom Suzán


No second acts
for two principle dancers
as dates pushed back
in annual marathons


reluctant to carry out
orgasmic fragments
in adagio codas
for luminous sopranos


running head to head
as unusually fetching gems
of mutual benefits
for the most inventively
heartfelt bucolic tendencies


just a bushel and a peck
of elegies to whomever else's
precedents of the indelibly
misspent opening melody


overstretched
tenderness
as inceptions
of mirrored
muscle memory
in jazzy inflections
of the pelvis


elegantly commemorative
carriages of the head
jangling geometrical mastery
as rapturous swashbuckling vivacity


unabashedly scrabbling
as madcap latter day glam
flippantly frisky
selfishly strong willed
depicted on a financial cliff
heat seeking as a quicksilver dinner



winning recognition
unappealingly charming and witty
twitching with reciprocative
dovetailing twists
like stressors of social etiquette

unpopularly meant
as oddball gestures
of hermetically
ingenuine conventions
for unbridled heroines
of oppression


on uninhabitable planets
with backstories of gas pedals becoming depressed to the metal
as breathless and sweaty
sloughed-off exoskeletons
in pursuit of longevity

shot with toxins to the forehead
as do-it-yourselfers inject
missing credentials of pessimists
suppressing hidden defects
of parental identities
with jury-rigged toddler fetes
with poor air quality

mottled during muddy springs
with disruptive shadings
of outlined shapes
maladjusted to change
firmly in place as adaptation
tapering in high-aspect ratios


like the most awkward of titles
as contrivances of quirky styles
for peering dark eyes
of obscure archives
arduously sliding
the wooden side
of a bow on the stretched strings
of a missing sibling postponing dreams


between freedom and duty
precisely antsy keeping the beat
with the red ink of singsong funding
as self-indulgence of aging mothers
depressing buttons


shamelessly gatecrashing
rejuvenation locations
skillfully deranged
inspiring avid conversations
during cringe-making escapes
over check-mated byways


gliding in bygone pilotless planes
replete with dashes of restraints
concocted as downed platters
of canvassed eyecandy
then chugged like tumblers
of biitered slings
as classically as Old Fashioneds...