Pale White Ballerina:

I saw a painting once

Rough, and contemporary

Of a pale white Ballerina

With black as coal thick hair

It hung on a wall

In the bleakest room

Held itself well

It lapped at attention

No matter where thrown

I found it cruel

A frozen girl

Trapped forever

Painted to be

Always in a perfect

Chaînés

She hung on–A wall–

White like pure snow

Beside her stood

A man– who told followers

All about her

Erect and at perfect ease

Half her body turned

In such an uncomfortable

Way, her toes–Pressed

Hard on their tips

En Pointe

To the waxed hardwood floor

She hung on a wall

Which was housed behind

Such thick–Imposing–

Oak museum doors