Painted Grins Around
Brion Joseph Humphrey
I left my name in Nebraska.
A hut, a house, a whole lotta laughs were they,
The ones who stayed behind, when the circus came to town.
Like I said, I left my name in Nebraska.
But now the lights have grown too bright,
And the cream cheese grease is melting.
A ball lies in the corner untouched. Unbounced. Unbroken.
Picture frames, cold copper cauliflower,
Nothing in its brash grasp.
The silver gleam has faded.
Blue and gold, a dash of red, the acid rain is falling,
It's fingertips upon my tent, tearing,
Clawing in a fetish frenzy,
Screaming entrance into the city,
Demanding recognition.
Not tonight.
The circus is open for business.
And my face is freshly painted.
