Wednesday, August 25, 2010

The Cleansing

mascara drips
along her mask
ragged rivers run

cap the pâté
wipe off the smile
peel the hair
from its bindings

it's time to take
the tents
all down

remove the rings
the whip is gone

board the trains
with moving boxes

ground the acrobatics
empty the traps
the balls
the bleachers

this stage is gone
as is, the ring's master

strip down to earth
turn out false lights
and look to the sky


  1. Another excellent poem, Kay. It captures a hidden world, both literal and metaphorical. There's a rhythm of movement that speaks of transience, rootlessness and loneliness without using any of those words once. All is accomplished through images. Very nice.

  2. Brian, you have caught me by surprise again. I must be gushing with the nomadic theme. This began with the image of Desdimona (remember Carol Burnett?) but once I began with mascara, I thought of circus--clowns-- the humor left, but I didn't see the moving connection until this morning. Weird.

    Thanks for enlightening me! ~Kay

  3. I like this poem, especially the last two stanzas.

    The opening and closing images form a contrasting relationship.


  4. I'm glad you like it Chen-ou! Thank you, Kay