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
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.
ReplyDeleteBrian, 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.
ReplyDeleteThanks for enlightening me! ~Kay
I like this poem, especially the last two stanzas.
ReplyDeleteThe opening and closing images form a contrasting relationship.
Chen-ou
I'm glad you like it Chen-ou! Thank you, Kay
ReplyDelete