Pole Dance
Chaplain O. Kris
Widmer
Idea: November 22, 2017 First Distribution: November
23, 2017
For a couple, still
loving each other, even after her stroke.
Not all exotic dancers
are found on
mirrored stages,
clutching
chrome poles
in dark clubs
with thumping
music,
clad in fringes
and tassels and G-strings.
where lust-filled
males applaud,
their only
touch of the smooth sweaty flesh
is when they
tuck the current currency
that festoons
their gyrating hips.
No they aren’t.
You see…
In a lived-in living
room
with dark
paneling
and furniture
from the fifties,
Mabel (not her
real name)
a woman in her
late eighties
also grabs a
pole,
(white with a
black rubber grip
installed by
her grandson)
with her still
strong Right hand.
Her left hangs
limp and
lovely, useless at her side.
She lifts her
wasting frame
off the wheel
chair,
transferring
her to the loveseat
where her aged
husband-lover,
Jim (not his
real name)
awaits her
womanly warmth
to rest once
again beside him.
She settles
down and in.
He reaches to
hold her hand,
like he has so
many times before.
He feels again the
current current of her blood.
Then, his hand
moves, to pat her upper thigh.
Besides their
daily kisses with dry, pasty lips
This is the
only action remaining for them
qualifies as sexual
behavior.
Except for her
doctors in the past
and her
mortician in the future;
he is the only
man
who will have ever
touched her…there.
With motionless
hands,
He applauds her
for,
the private
pole dance,
performed once
again
just for him.
