Gypsy's Market

Gypsy’s Market
from XX
By Nabil Abou Baker
5/30/2010

The Market

As I walked down
The long slithering
Street. I saw something
New, a market.
I ventured closer,
Passed an elder
Badgering beggar
Abusing liquor.
I needed some brown
Fresh almonds for my
‘Specially secret
Rich yet rough rice. I
Searched the items by eye,
Astonishingly,
The first sect’ was very
Thorough with wild berries.
The unusual gyps’
Had all the true berries,
Currants that varied from
Red to white to black.
Oh, I couldn’t leave
Out the ever pop’
Green gooseberry, which can
Only be found in small
Parts of Africa, Asia, and
Europe. The gypsy’s had
Not missed a fruit. There
Were epigynous,
Or faux berries like the
Healthy, copious
Cranberry. And the now
Beneficial
Blueberry. Oh, even
The aggregate fruits.
Thimbleberry throngs,
Several salmon-
Berries, countless cloud-
Berries, wine berries,
And loganberries.
Meticulously
Motley ‘ready ripened
Raspberry bunches,
Enough merrily picked
Mulberries to feed
For a few full days.
Nothing compared to
The gypsy blood green
Hypnotizingly
Succulent, sober
‘Ceited strawberries.

The Gypsy

I moved closer to
The end of the school
Of berries. A gyps’
Stood there looking ‘way
From me. As I came
E’er so slowly close,
She turned around and
Was covering her
Face with a head scarf.
She was dressed in
Loose, flowing and dull
Palate colored clothes.
I could see only her
Eyes, and the subtle
Superficial
Contour of her nose
Piercing the clay scarf.
Her eyes were like that
Of a black panther
Stalking her prey at
Night, sharp yet glowing—
Radiating like
The moon at midnight.
Mesmerized by her,
I had forgotten
What I had wanted.
She stuck out her Earth
Brown hand and waited
For me to hold it.
She said “Come with me
I have a special
Thing for you.” I did
What she said and she
Took me into a
Rust—colored tent with
Not any frivolous
Fruit or any vital
Vegetables—just
Some furniture and
A little dirty
Boy by a drum. She
Told him to play it.
The boy’s hands began
To bounce back and forth
Beautifully off
The vibrating drum.
She began—slowly—
And slightly coming
So much carefully
Closer to my still
Shockingly frozen
Silent body. Her
Hips haughtily hit
Every-every beat.
I was evermore
Dumbfounded—why? She,
The gypsy, grabbed me
And we moved together
Like the ocean and moon.
Her seductive dance
Had sold whate’er she
Wanted. She removed
Her headscarf to show
Her true form, a wet
Sand skinned beaut’
With strawberry—red lips
And raven black hair
That flowed as water
In a rapid—still
River, defying
The logic of life.
She walked over to a
Desk, pulled out a round
Object in a cloth
And handed it to
Me. I opened it—
A heart shaped strawberry.
It tasted like hell
And heaven in one.
And ne’er did I leave…