I'm Major Jackson and this is the slowdown.

I'm Major Jackson and this is the slowdown. I never took lessons, but consider myself a pretty good mover on the parquet.

Sadly though, I don't dance as much as I used to.

A friend of mine shamed me for having a wedding with no dance floor celebration.

Truth is, I forgot to hire a DJ.

Who forgets to bring music to a party? he said.

Still, the food was exceptional.

Once, a coworker invited me to Rock and Bowl in New Orleans. It was Zydeco Night. I told her that I

preferred to watch. But as soon as the music started up, its feel-good rhythms made me want to do more than bounce on the side.

The crowd's elegant stepping and twirling looked like something miraculous to be a part of.

I tried to join in, but could not keep pace.

I tripped over myself.

I listened too intently to the accordion washboard and Creole French lyrics.

A woman asked my friend to switch partners.

She walked me through the steps.

Next thing, I was two stepping with the best of them.

Today's poem names the silent syncopated talk of the body

that occurs when two people are in sync and graceful movements

when they let each other lead at the Rainbow Cattle Company by Bruce Snyder.

No matter who leads tonight, who follows, I fill his stare as we work the floor. He swagger's from heel to toe. Is it his

smile or his eyes I can't ignore.

Even the lights wink,

...