Hup! Hup! Saturday--the circus tent bloats
up, up--a spangled blowfish.
A murder of entertainers spills out
of garish trailers. They mill about the ring.
They drag on sharp cigarettes that no longer smolder,
twirl and smooth their sketchy mustaches. They ponder
their stubble, except Rowena the bearded lady.
The tent glories in red and golden stripes,
too ripe, faded like light,
watery colors of an Easter egg.
The ringmaster--his country costume
a ballad of orange and grape.
Saturday night--more sequins for
the come-one-come-all sequence.
Dolled-up bears spin between peg legs,
acrobats miss each other,
awed audiences suck in awed breath.
The cavernous tent shuts out the jungle,
waits for the razzle-dazzle to fizzle.
Monday morning--she's down, deflated,
the leathery carcass of a rhino.
