on Urgent Avenue

like when,
you can’t sleep until Friday night’s party upchucks out of your system
you have to get it out

when you understand the sunset songs of the locusts,
the patchwork of honeycombs
and the bend of grass blades point you to the direction
of Going Way, Wait No More Lane or Urgent Avenue

it’s natural for,
people to reach through fire
pray to moving clouds
wrestle with concrete
and climb flag poles

because this keeps the lights on
the corn liquor golden
the heart pumping
don’t put the fire out

fan the flames.

for Bree Newsome

8 thoughts on “on Urgent Avenue”

  1. “wrestle with concrete
    and climb flag poles” Nikki, this is prose gold!

    I’m so glad I found you in cyberspace–keep tellin’ it like it is.

  2. Affecting. I like this a lot. It beez like that sometimes; sometimes it’s just that urgent. When waiting is no longer an option, and nature’s fruit smells heavy in the air, enough so it makes you wanna grab for it, and snatch it off the tree instead of waiting for it to fall. Beautiful.

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