Richmond

**Hijab woman gazing at** 1292082583
 * Exposed belly dancer **
 * While Mo’Rockin’ plays **
 * To the crowd of stroller-pushing mothers **
 * And child-carrying fathers **
 * Assorted others of us **
 * Unencumbered with children. **
 * This Morocco is described as a “faraway land of traditional belly dancers, **
 * intricate Moroccan architecture and swirling mosaics **
 * made by native craftsmen.”[i] **
 * I wonder how traditional the belly dancer was. **
 * Whose tradition is most important **
 * In the world of plastic that is Disney? **
 * What is revealed along with the skin **
 * Of another Princess Jasmine **
 * Baring her belly? **
 * And does either of these women like to **
 * “Entertain Guests” (with a capital G) **
 * “With their sinuous movements” **
 * In the adjacent “Restaurant Marrakesh” **
 * Or does it really matter what they want? **

"QUICKER THAN A RAY OF LIGHT" (Madonna) Zephyr in the sky at night I wonder Do my tears of mourning sink beneath the sun? She's got herself a universe gone quickly For the call of thunder threatens everyone. (borrowed from []

[i] []

-- She sits, tucked under her legs Are her dreams. He is close by, facing the Same direction, watching Another who streches, arches Back, and settles in to watch them. She strides forward, ducking Into her mind for a moment of Quiet solitude. Not long is she alone - He follows, and she is brought Back to reality. Her hand reaches across the fence Reaching toward a dropped Plastic bracelet. Her father uses a paper wand to Gather the bedazzled string For his girl. Nearby, a family walks in Tim, not realizing that their Feet strike the concrete In concert. A swooping Slide calls to the youngest Who relents to the rain-covered sidewalk. -- Flowers pushing colors across Green branches Tangerine-tipped petals open To the sound of laughter across a manufactured lake. A white heron hunts geckos Between the stark, stiff columns of the Disney Yacht Club.

My fear is a white noise Always there Behind me, below me, beside me In the strange glow of midnight Walking below the pine trees Waiting to catch up to me. Vibrations of apprehension Are deafening. They engulf me like a sheet, Surrounding me with dread and palpitations. My life is always buzzing, always humming, And the fear is as constant as the Beating of my heart. - "Waking the Reader /Breaking the Teacher’s Dream"

The beauty of the structure is immeasurable. Perfect lines. Strong support. Rich texture. Each part fits exactly, so that the observer’s eye moves easily across the significant piece. My mind tracks across the page, past lusciously languid language designed to evoke emotion, Through thick description that serves to slow the reader down. Lost in the journey of the flow, I am floating, bobbing between ideas and memories. Then, I see it. Unanticipated evil, lurking buried between a sumptuous clause and a lingering description that takes my mind away from the page. Not a little. Two words, written as one. I go numb. Quickly, I glance back to the comfort of the sentences before. There is rhetorical prowess. Control. There is love for the language. Polish. There is peace. Is it murder if the author’s mistake kills my heretofore smooth and engaging reading experience? Manslaughter – without intent but nevertheless maddening and malicious?
 * Alot.**
 * //Alot//**.