ouch my hed is spinning now but the drunk will soon wear off go spinning down the alleyway with the image of several freakish girls spinning in your head I may fall over into the bathtub now but Dexter is still looking at me from in the bed room. LOOK: all I or anyone (maybe) wants is this: a connection. I felt a connection with the black woman on stage with the reddish smile who seemed to know why I was freak dancing and I felt a connection with the odd girl with the straw hat who seemed to dance with me even though neither of us was following any rules. (I felt a connection with the ground, the straw and hay grass of Milwaukee, the very mud that thumps under our feet like a heart) And then later the drinking woman who said “TWO STEP” to me over and over, it seemed like she was trying to get me to do something with her, maybe it was a subjugation of some sort, some sort of ritual fucking although I somehow doubt that she would phrase it that way, and I did not know what it was she wanted me to do (even though I held her hand and she twirled) and so I just kept on gyrating and she didn’t seem satisfied and said, “What are you, a ballerina or something?” and oh well, you can’t connect with everyone all the time, Right? But a connection is sacred, I don’t care if it’s with your oldest friend or a total stranger with a basket for a hat, a connection is as sacred as the waves, And people play guitar and drums in Milwaukee and the harmonica wails even still in my soul I’ve truly danced my heart out; let’s see if there’s anything on TV (I deserve it) before I walk the dog.