The trophy is itself a fluttering
incomprehensible object of
jealous runners-up. The jitterbug
is a dance we all did once
without competing. Such is love,
oft found in one form equal as
the next, a contest that never
ends, a hapless foot-spasm
that makes a wealth of rhythm
on grain wood, a conscious howling
of all that we think is misunderstood
but's got down just right. |
Submission Name: America's Got Talent. 
