the polka

she says she loves
to polka.
it's her dance.
it's carefree
and jubilant.
she likes the sound
of the accordian,
the beer
and clothes.
the men with
mustaches and
women with strong
thick legs.
she can dance
all night, she says,
with the right
band. and i believe
her as she skips
across the room
in pigtails, pretending
no longer
to be married, but
with another
man.