August 31, 2012

poem 301 of a poem a day for 2012

after glow circus banter

behind the big top
the smell of straw
is everywhere that
the scatter portage
of the animals can
stir themselves to
behind the prance
of spotlights

you might be next
on the trapeze
I hear a man say
with a clipboard and radio
into the mill of glitter
along the bottom
of the hillside above
where I am sitting

this affords me
the spill sights
of marbles
going back in the bag
after they all lined up
and played leap frog
with tricycles and
mirrored ceilings shining
into the audience

each stardust parade
braves the admission
for a taste of wonder
in the wander here
where it still sounds
like penny arcades
and soda fountains
and places that never left
the way they used to be


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