Not a Circus Fan

Circus me a frown

clown in neon blue

with stripes

I see in my sleep

Oscillating, like a cyclone

like that time

after too many mango margaritas

in Cabo

Heave-ho

pirate clown

black and white

and stubbly beard

I hope he won’t hug me

scratches, Patches

and his scent

like bourbon on Santa’s breath

Now there’s a clown

asking if “mommy” would like to sit

on his lap too

Watery eyes, seen too many

bottoms

of glasses

And cigar smoke

fingering the suit

I make for

the other end of the sleigh

feeling a bit like sequins and legs

and hope for more

of stale popcorn

and less of

the inexplicable circus peanut

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

For Poetry Jam: Under the Big Top