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      March 19, 2020St. Vitus’ DanceJoseph Fasano

      “In 1518, hundreds of citizens of Strasbourg danced uncontrollably and apparently unwillingly for days on end; the mania lasted for about two months before ending as mysteriously as it began … Such outbreaks take place under circumstances of extreme stress … [such as] famines … diseases … and overwhelming stressors.”
      —Encyclopedia Britannica

      Given affliction, the body will find
      a way; the body will turn itself
       
      to music.
      1518, and when the first of the dancers takes
       
      to the streets, starving arms
      akimbo, it is because
       
      the crops have failed, the thresholds are plagued
      with ashes; it is because, in the black mass
       
      of the body’s sacrament, the remedy is fiercer
      than the curse—and when the searchers found
       
      the neighbor girl deep in the forest
      last winter, the blizzard lifting the worried fur
       
      of their collars, she had stripped
      naked, wholly, as the freezing
       
      will do, the body gone mad in the last blaze
      of being here, the body blossoming into music.
       
      Once, the body says. Once
      I knew a woman
       
      whose madness took the shape of infinite music
      filling her body
       
      until nothing was left to her, and she became
      water, fire, a palace where her ghosts could enter,
       
      departing and hollowing her
      at will. It was not grace,
       
      exactly. And when
      they left, for good, and left her
       
      with nothing, she became
      the same song that the world would have sung
       
      without her. She stood
      above the promise of some river
       
      and looked back into the city
      of her one life, its fallow fields
       
      and endless choirs of fire,
      and she heard, in time, the music,
       
      and she became, in time, the music,
      and she listened for how it asked itself
       
      to end.
      Think of it: the first step
       
      forward, the tired soul like its own plague
      in its blazing, lifting up its mild eyes
       
      for the dancing.
      Think of it: the rising up, the wonder.
       
      Think of it: the brokenness,
      the holding. And then the moment
       
      when you look up at the wild skies,
      your one life
       
      in blazing flames around you—
      the moment
       
      when you do it, then, you do it:
      the one thing the flesh can do
       
      with ruin, the one thing
      the doomed can do
       
      in ruin,
      the ruined ones, who rise
       
      again, in fever,
      and are briefly, briefly
       
      like the saved ones,
      whose maddened dance of splendor
       
      is their rest.

      from Poets Respond

      Joseph Fasano

      “This poem came to me during self-quarantine amidst the ongoing coronavirus pandemic. It seems to me a poem about how the human spirit finds a way to endure—even if that way looks like madness–and how the things we do to feel alive in the face of doom are enough to defeat that doom, even if the remedies—even if we—cannot last.”