• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 08

Showman

A young dawn
A whiff of the salt spray
and a happy birdsong met under a tree
and became me

but the tamer was near


I felt him grow in the twin tulips that refused

to lift their heads and grew full of sorrow

Their stems gave out a stench

From blossoms to hags, they went

I hung on
to the edge of the sky

wedging a wave between my feet

grasping at a moon beam
never breathing out my scent
nor breathing in, his poison
and drank from the last floating, furtive cloud



The tamer, an old hand, a dream catcher

threw a bell jar over the elements

and I was caught



A slow reverse tango
Freedom aged
choked by the concentrated blue and salt

scorched by bitter moonlight
throttled by the trapped fluff



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Showman

"Wings for tail" He chants the mantra

backwards now. Cold glass hits me.

You have coffee

Your clapping

like leaping flames

licks at my wizened ears

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