Butoh
S
Sheena Blackhall
0
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Butoh
I watched an old man dance, a living ghost
His face was melted tallow, smeared with tears
His arms were wax, as thin and gaunt as wire.
He danced like Death that stalked Hiroshima
That fell down from the clouds, dire Armageddan
He danced like human remnants stepped from the fire.
He danced like a planet shrivelled, vaporised
His white arms stretched, his thin legs writhed and spun
On a bleak stage, his blue lips mouthed a curse
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