Two Dancers
Dance The World!
A Song Without a Beat
I move in dreams
frantically arranging pictures
in their places,
painting faces,
timing the spaces,
missing the beat of my own heart’s thump.
Song from a dream
I’d rather be dancer down the street,
with broken glass and garbage cans
beneath my feet.
I’d rather be a painter or a devil.
Myriad Ways 
Nice! Especially “Song from a Dream.”
Thanks, I wrote this a long time ago and just recently revised it a bit. I think maybe my younger self was a better poet, at least when I was dreaming.