The Baker
Toes land soft and the wood bends beneath them. Right on beat. The floor is slick and your socks protect everything. This is why no shoes on stage. This is everything. The bridge is next. Then it’s one-two-hips. Then the shimmy. Then that fem-move with the loose wrists and the sass, the back and forths. Elbows at sides, forearms at right angles. Be the crane. Twin Cranes. Lifting nothing but hopes. Keep your eyes closed for it. Let the smile fill your face at the end. Let smiles fill the room.
You are air. You are movement. The chorus is up-nod, snap, then left foot behind the body. Shift your weight, press into the back leg. Twist. Press into the softwood and shift the weight, knee up and spin spin spin.
Then the Baker. You call it the Baker, like you are stretching dough between the hand raised above your head and the hand beneath your waist. You are making an eight, your arms two loops, your body a straight line connecting the rings. The Baker. You close your eyes and hold it. This song has no fade. This is a hard stop. You have so much bread. There are so many hungry mouths out there.