Roadkill

The velvet curtains part revealing
the timorous player who trembles
as spotlights converge upon him like speeding comets
His muscles tense
Eyes snap shut
The spotlights envelop him

Marble eyes sparkling within his hooded lids
Capture the pallid shades drifting in the azure drop
A hush falls over the crowd.

Pressed against the gravel screen
Three dimensions compressed in two
The sonorous screeching tired melody accompanies the players act.

A gust of wind tousles his hair
Clumped in shades of exquisite rouge
A crimson thread unravels the animation

His limbs twist in the motion of an Egyptian dance
As scarabs crawl atop his broken crown
One woman gasps in horror and turns away

The motions grow more violent,
Streams of animation unraveling from a crimson thread
The audience gawks and points in howling shock and laughter

It dances, it sings, it hollers, it shouts
What a marvel! What a treat!
Pirouetting madly
Razing senses like a cyclone
Faster! Faster! The morbid ballerina turns
A blur of animated light
Spinning, spiraling, faster, flying off the screen
Up! Up! Higher! Spin faster! Faster!

It stumbles and falls
Flat against the gravel screen
A hush falls over the audience

Harlequins decked in autumn fashions
Jest to relieve the mounting tension
The audience's mirthful laughter roars in approval

The evanescent spotlights blink out one by one
As the velvet curtains begin to close
The rumble of passing footsteps applaud the player's act.

Drops of April showers dangle from his whiskers,
Drying in the summer heat
Captures autumn's iridescent colours,
Freezing in the winter bleak
The player's hour upon the stage has ended
And he is forgotten.