Calliope Tunes
She can hear calliope musicits jarring notes whistling
and the smell of burnt sugar
that makes her feel slightly sick.
"It's the Circus" she says to herself
and watches rain splash the pane
She remembers being excited
the first time she saw elephants
and the clown who made her scream
as he threw buckets of torn tissue
into the stalls where they sat.
She held Papa's hand so tight
That she slipped from the sweat
losing him in the barrelling crowds,
a stampede of eager hoards
doped on hallucinatory tunes and
addictive candy that popped in mouths.
In her childhood imagination
Papa was the clown and Mamma
spun on ropes as honky tonk tunes
trilled and thrilled the audience.
A garish clothed fool with rubber lips
and a nose that parped like a horn
found her and took her back to her seat
safe between Papa and Maman
They watched a Cowboy and Indian show
That galloped in a frenzy around,
sawdust flying in choking dust
the whoops and calls deafening.
She was sick on the way home
a head pounding in pain from the strain
of that damn calliope music.
"I don't like the Circus" she murmurs,
"besides, it's not fun when it rains."
Poetry by Elle
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Written on 2013-01-07 at 20:07
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Lawrence Beck |
Peter J. Kautsky |
Texts |
by Elle Latest textsTwo Little CatsHills Not the End Cinders Oh perfect Day |
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