I fell in love with that beautiful dancing buffoon,

Pot belly swaying over denim clad hips,

I looked down on him,

Insides made of straw and wheat paste

And skin like sun bleached burlap,

Nothing to be looked down upon by anyone,

Because we are made Real and soft by Love,

And he was that Love embodied,

Electric and Alive,

Swaying to the music we all heard

But he Felt.