Crawling between their legs

Who are they?
large vehicles in small rooms
Watch your feet, don’t bump the joy stick
Look, look closer, alter time, compose the space

The snail crawls across the floor
Its heart breaking in the wind at your feet
The butterfly dies a slow death on the pavement
We feed ourselves meds, ice cream, tofu, no prayers for redemption

Each leg is an individual unto itself
Fifty legs, fifty arms, 125 limbs all together
Look left, look right, look up, down, tilt your chin just so,
Swivel your hips, bend at the wrist, reach, turn, bow, bob your ass

This is the dance of fools
This is the dance of unexpected artists
Is this high art, low art, art or dance at all?
Life is concentrated here, don’t add the water yet