Dokoudovsky

A lean mean hawk of a man

Pounding his big stick on the floor

“Un, deux, trois, quatre”

Till his demeaning voice withers the spirit

Of his next anorexic victim, later left

Distraught in the dressing room

Sobbing in silence

Her thin bony frame pulsating.

I was grateful those dark piercing eyes never settled on me,

But I always listened intently

To every barbed comment

My mind filtered out

The harshness of his words

And I learned the essence

Of how a body is transformed

By nuanced movement

Leading to greatness,

masterful and transcendent.