On An Average Afternoon On North High Street in Columbus, Ohio
I wrote this for Read Write Prompt #79 (also Read Write Word #18), and as you can guess while reading this, it was just as much for me to write as it probably will be for you to read it. Enjoy. (Oh yeah, I encourage you to click on the links too — your choice of during or after your read.)
-Nicole
———————————
the bellydancing gorilla
at the corner of Twelfth and High
alternates between
large, gentle shimmies erupting from
chocolate-covered chunked mountain
muscle and
rotating gyroscope hips
sliding past Saturn, stealing
violet and pearl glow from
Andromeda’s halo, and catching
turquoise and electric orange fire
from Crab Nebula’s crown before
returning back to point zero
when she’s not dancing
she stomps the street corner and
wears a sandwich board
painted in six-inch high black letters
that reads
“I am sapient and
convoluted”
and
she is her own Crab Pulsar
broadcasting
dense and suspended in this
street corner world
no one would notice her
except for
the river of liquid celadon-colored
undead
spilling into the street
and then collapsing in a
stinky wave on top of her
and from beneath the mound of
wet devouring and
moribund expiration
she soon emerges
just as green-faced and dead-eyed
as they are
and now her sign is altered
two words crossed out and
two words added
it now reads
“I am devoid
and debunked”
her shimmy stolen, this
chained lady now leads the pack
lurching forward in a slow, stiff, stilted
death march past
motorized metal candy-colored wombs
giving birth to frightened sprinters
under this perfect sky wearing
torn cotton and yellow number five
on her back
up on a rooftop
a young man with wild hair sits
knees curled to chest
next to him an older man
an ocean of fuzzy black waves
atop his head
he mumbles to himself in French
and sheds a few quiet tears for
the gorilla
together, they watch the chaos
unfold and spill into the streets
lost, roaming blood
looking for an end
and
soon
wild-eyed denizens emerge
from darkened doors
holding cold lengthened lead
in their arms
opened narrow mouths
do not betray the
unborn arrows of fire inside
one woman aims, pulls
and
ejaculates
wounds and terror into the street
but the leaden cum zooms
past their zombie ears
which perk up while their lips
offer up gasps to heaven
and now the gorilla
spins around
leaves her place at the head
of the undead crowd
and runs towards the
fiery masturbator
while pulling her head off
the shooter
now finds herself face to face
with a sparkle-eyed man
wearing fur, gypsy skirts,
and silver chains – he smiles
and says
“please don’t shoot
right now
there are buses waiting
at the corner of
Northwood and High
to pick us all up and
take us out for milk and cookies
and you can come too”
he points to the gun
“but I don’t think they’ll
let you bring that
onto the bus”
Written 6/16/09
© 2009 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.
Lovely poem
Wow..lots goinmg on here…very nice read indeed
I like the astronomical imagery and the way the sign changes. You capture the action and chaos on the street quite well.
Captivating story, Nicole.
The belly dancing gorilla… what an image!
oh, my–I’m breathless!! wow!
(feels like someone “stole my shimmy!”
It does sound like quite the average afternoon on high street…I’m gonna be looking for that gorilla now, everywhere I go.
This is so impressive and clever. I’ll be back to read it again!
Like the narration. Belly dancing gorilla..I loved that!
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