TANGO IS A WAY OF LIFE

TANGO IS AN ADDICTION
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The rules of addiction:One: you keep doing itTwo: every time you do it you feel happyThree: it turns your life upside down but you don't care.
Today I wrote of bloody feetAnd undone laundryAnd family being neglectedTo a woman who begged to knowHow do you take out your garbagehow do you dustAnd how do you washWhen you're a dancer andA member of tango list?
I don't, I answeredYou are rightWe just dance.
She asked:“Is chasing that tango momentout of desperationto fill the emptiness inour heart?
“Yes”, I said.
“Or is it a way to order our livesSo that we can do something thatInspires usMakes us each smileAnd the laundry be damned?”
“Yes”, I said.
Read what Cherie wrote in Buenos Aires:“During my stay I didn't shopor sleep or eat exceptoccasionallynaps andfood on the run, and I lived on wine.
At midnight I would wrap my feetAnd pad my toes and stuff themInto spike heeled pointy tango shoesAnd hobble to the elevator.I suffered tillBlessed numbness set inAn hour later.
Then the music began andI would float on air acrossThe hard cementUntil the morning.After two milongas I'd have breakfastAnd then go home and peel the shoesOff my bloody feetAnd soak themAnd then fall into bedSmelling of men's cologneFeelingDeliriously happy.”
So, go all you addictsYou dancers and poetsAnd milonguerasSpend your lifeForever running afterThe moment thatMakes you happyBecause most peopleDon't even do that.