Anchor and Release

You read a story about the two 
elderly men who snuck out 
of their nursing home to attend a heavy 
metal festival. You never get to find out
which band— an ad interrupts,
of course: Aviation Mechanic Training. 
Or free real estate advice. That's 
the way of the world: it puts two 
silk cords in your hands and fills
the ends with rocks of different 
sizes and shapes. You're supposed to spin
them with the lightest of wrist movements  
so they draw helixes in the air; 
wide, lapping circles around you. 
All in the footwork. When you get good 
at this, promises the instructor, you could 
graduate to fire.  Which could be a goal, 
perhaps because everyone who looks at you 
only thinks cardigan, not spandex. Or 
drogue parachute, if parachute at all.

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