Sometimes a bluesky day overrepresents itself.
The short circuits aren't crackling in ways
the electric company can fix.
Instead, the mind pulses on
complicated and frantic.
The tight rope walker goes
off to the left and falls
The bear comes down
off his ball and cries
The tiger roars to his own tune
and then bites the head
off his trainer and escapes onto Main Street
where he is promptly shot
by rather impervious deputies.
The blacktop is bleeding and broken into clumps
from where the elephants made their truths known.
One guy who jingle jangles their trunks full of old peanuts
turns beet red when the kids ask why he's whipping Dumbo.
this poem first appeared in Green Hills Literary Lantern
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