POETRY CORNER

CIRCUS GEEK

Oh sure, I helped push the Big Top up

Toppling clowns

Getting by the big boys

Finding time to press

Our flesh palm fish net

Work of the mind of men

Who caught my mother’s rape

Scene on film.

To see her plastered out

Like a whore on third

All while we were high

Up on a wire

In the dark tent.

It’s the only sword I’ll swallow.

CASTE INTO THE FOUNTAIN

That man is rich, I’ll admire and follow him.

I’ll not think for myself.

That man is poor. The rich man says despise him.

I’ll not think of others.

That man is rich, I know because he is so far away.

I’ll not think on it and perhaps I’ll be rich someday.

So goes the prayers of the ignorant,

Cast into the fountain of fools.

MOTHER’S EVE

Smelling like minnows,

Dungarees hang on little limbs

Muddy foot to tooth,

Breathing honey breath

Because, young, they can.

Still plump with their moment,

Woman plays behind

Naked prints leading to the tub

In a path of love and giggles.

She seeks, cherubs hide.

And when found out,

All three chocolates dipped.

Held by the heel and healed.

Licked until shiny,

Clean as the mantle clock,

The babes soon sleep

Tight as clams.

FATHER FISHING

Both mechanisms creaking,

Reel and bones,

My old man of the river and sea

Forever shines above my dumb hook.

DRIED SPARROWS

Where have the winter children gone?

Their laughter withered with spring,

Thawed damp on dry lips.

When will the crisp air drown again?

So much like flies stuck in honey,

Sweet deep breaths at last.

Old enough to never have been,

Each to each nothing ever gives.

Not a parting kiss, nor embrace of wit.

The years now we’ll stack neatly,

Corners creased and folded over,

Like so many boxes of dried sparrows.

WHEN THE CIRCUS CAME TO TOWN

How oddly every child smiled

When the high-wire broke and the funny fat clown

Tumbled and tumbled down.

For, rushing to his demise,

His lips twisted up for the night’s first time

As he broke both neck and frown.