Prior to the riot...
She danced atop the truck
and held her body tight
to the air on either side of her
as she shook. Her limbs
a’ flailing in the summer night
and the stars above likewise, were swaying. Dim
celestial bulbs hanging from the black ceiling of the sky. The world
became very small all of a sudden and tunneled
in on her, dancing
like a hillbilly nymph
that wandered out of the hills of American folklore
to stomp the hood of this Ford back into the dirt where it belonged.
Men's eyes paraded, small and black, all over her body. Ants on a sweaty
watermelon half at some picnic on the Fourth of July, there was the sound
of fireworks going off in the distance.
That, or gun shots.