Rumblings of the bus
propel the riders forward,
Madide is among the

Dancers take their places,
standing and lining and
bubbling between the

(step-two-three)

Bars and seats of plastic
encircle Madide, he
uses them with

Purpose and ease
follow the dancers,
sureness matched only by

Their indifference leads
like a man to apathy,
Madide at the fore.

     Away, Madide, away!
     The bars are circling inward.
     Three steps, a hand, a hold, and then
     This time of love and sedition.

Madide advances, dancers
slip by; bus groans
to a dusty halt.

The dancing hall is
long like a tunnel,
almost mechanical

in its

(step-two-three)