There's a Limit

There's a limit,
                            to how cretinous
There's a limit,
                            to how functional
There's a limit,
                            to dancing skills
There's a limit,
                            to the efficacy of pirate costumes
There's a limit,
                            to brave new acquaintances
There's a limit,
                            to practicality of:
                                                           a feather duster,
                                                           a 401K,
                                                           Allen's patience,
                                                           your Hulu queue,
                                                           how long a glance is just-
                                                           how brief a glance can be, before:
                                                                                                                         a slight,
                                                                                                                         an aloofery,
                                                                                                                         a pridewound,
                                                                                                                         a paper mache cat.

How directionless would we be if we all knew how to dance,
but no one had that sticky blue tape to designate the floor?
There are leaves everywhere and people with scarves and that one guy
is too close to all the girls and that one girl has crazy eyes and no clothes
and where, goddammit, is the janitor, someone has to set these things up,
jenga them to death.