Read Write Poem Wordle #118
In the handsome dark, we fumble for doubloons
lying dead on the pavement.
Little minted mirrors of gold, magenta, turquoise, emerald, and
polished purple riot like the wine soaking into the costumed madness
around us: this swirling, detonated rainbow
of beads, feathers, fire, and flesh. It is fringed, open-mouthed, and
dripping beautiful fermented stink from its lips.
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This poem was written for two reasons: 1) it’s (I think) #2 in the series some persona poems that I am working on, and 2) for Read Write Poem Prompt #98: Whee!. The persona is actually one my my alter egos, Nick Raven. Without further explanation, I’ll give you the poem below. Enjoy.
-Nicole
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They think I’m part of the carnival acts. I slip
in and out of shadows, tent pole magic in thin, lanky lines of sable
and squares of canvas casting liquid rhombi of black
upon the ground. All of this, created
by sallow, maudlin, and rainbow lights. The skin
of this exuberant monstrosity is littered with them, and it stinks
of popcorn, cakes made of tangled messes of fried squiggle, and syrup
recast into clouds of pale color and dancing
on the ends of sticks.
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