Life is Circus
In the circus of my sanity, no applause
ripples the canvas, no cheers
harmonize with the band. My mind
wobbles across the tight rope, sagging,
slipping, tumbling into the darkness
where no nets wait to catch me.
The lion's maw, full of rotted teeth,
yawns open and I tumbled toward it.
My last sequins sparkle faintly
in the fading light as all goes black.
Mary Taitt, 11.24.09
This is for Laura Tattoo
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