At the Circus

Marry before the sex circus tent descends

The high wire limp

The pool of water for the high dive dries

Let the hall of mirrors seduce

Only way to make it on the train is to hitch

Before the engine smokes for another town

Scarf bananas and rum lit afire flambé

Burn the alcohol and steep the sweetness

Draw out the sugar past midnights churning

Tiny wheels on track, elephants in line

Thighs bumping the edges of the car

Tigers resigned growls to purrs over a hunk of meat

Flopped in the cage on schedule

The uniformed feeder plopping a carcass for incisors

Eyeing the blood drip in the marble

Seeing the white veiny highways blur

Drunk vision in a disinclination to hunt

To eat what is present accommodating to the culture

Of the whip to sit on the perched chair for the audience

Exposing a belly in submission, tongue kept inside a mouth

The top hat and Barnum, the book of tickets sold 

The holiness ritual of popcorn

Hand in bag to mouth churning until staring at the remnant

Un-popped kernels at the bottom, forlorn

The initial heat, the combustion, the buttery lick, the salt shake

Pupils dilating to see the striped orange beast

The bird lady on the wire, delicate toes and flowered leggings

Audience in the pit-gut wanting to see her fall and tiger to eat a man alive