THE QUEEN’S DANCE
Hey y’all!
For Day 3 of National Poetry Writing Month, the writing prompt is:
Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a surreal prose poem. For inspiration, check out Franz Kafka’s collection of short parables.
Watch the poem:
Read the poem:
THE QUEEN’S DANCE
By Farah Lawal Harris, 2024
The queen danced to Queen. Rebirthed and free she felt, shaking her jelly cuz jam don’t shake like that. Fear don’t shake like that. Thank God the vinyl record didn’t scratch. Box braids in a bun bouncing, beat face pronouncing the announcement that “She’s a god, she’s a hero.” Once, she felt like a zero but hearing this house music, in this house, she is Her Majesty indeed. Wearing purple for she’s royalty. Queens don’t fall, queens stand tall. Queens look danger in the eye and ask, “How do you do?” Queens are comfortable. Comfortable in her RiRi Fenty foundation skin color 445, singing loud cuz she’s alive. She’s alive, she’s alive!
A mere 24 hours later, the queen receives a call. Turns out it was cancer after all. The queen screamed and balled her fists. How in the hell could she be cozy like this? She wipes her nose and eyes, feeling dull and dead inside. But there’s no more time to cry, for it’s time to hop in her chariot to pick up the little prince.
By the way, when’s the last time you self-checked your breasts?
