Three rings or five rings no-one would look for him in the main tent.
Where is the tendon and the sole to walk a rope
or even the tall cruelty to crack a whip
guts to heel-hang from a bar catch comrades from a dangled strand
brass to blare a horn grace to crowd-wise tap music from the band?
He has not the muscled wit to juggle; nor the accident
of beauty bloodrare and wild to prowl stage-center in a cage.
Focused men who shove with pride sell cotton candy in the stands
the calloused cautious roustabout takes pains with quick bare hands.
Punctual innocence sweeps the tanbark in between the acts
and humility leaps venerant to horses’ schooled gay backs.
Clowns explode in pity and love: whimpers embarrass chil- dren into rage
He is not caparisoned for the main tent. In the sideshow mightily
he flirts adjusting his mock-mournful smile while cynically he poses there
cosily naked as though in his own parlour, a near hermaphro- dite,
not a genuine freak but reason enough for our despair.
Three Rings or Five Rings
Did you enjoy the the artible “Three Rings or Five Rings” from Isabella Gardner on OZOFE.COM? Do you know anyone who could enjoy it as much as you do? If so, don't hesitate to share this post to them and your other beloved ones.
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