On Visiting the Brooklyn Museum in Winter (2)

I danced here
once
so long ago
that the fact it was an 80s dance party
might not have been ironic.

I danced here with people
that don’t today live in this state
with folks no longer in my life.
I danced here
using means of transportation
I have mostly eschewed.
I danced here before I knew
how to pronounce “eschew” property,
probably.
Askew? Ee-shew? Ess-chew?
Huh.

The ceilings were high then.
The lights were fluorescent then.
The crowds were different then,
for that was night
and this is day
and the same people
do not perform the same activities
in those periods
and anyway
that was a different decade
and possibly a different century
(and, due to the vagaries of my birth
{and Jesus’}, thus,
a different millennium).

Times have changed,
is what I’m saying.

I danced here once.
It doesn’t really seem
that long ago.

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