Telephonelike calliope, breathheld, crouched under bleachersreaching out,grazing wooden wheel carryingthe fat lady,swooning for fists buriedinside her crevices,wondering if her mother taught herLook, But Don’t Touch. Hello?Are you there?
Words Count with Mama Zen at Real Toads: CIRCUS
AND (speaking of circuses) this is #6 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans!