Burlesque

Popcorn cannot forgive

laughter on contact,

joints ceramic without a net.

Go ahead, mock the crush,

call it acting, your clown hands

numb to the sting.

Odd burlesque in a dark ring.

Abrahamic slapstick.

No audience.  No applause.

I sleep on the unbruised side,

lock the dressing room door―
dream of crossing the tightrope, a star.

tk/February 2015

A sensitive read by R.A.D. ...

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Defense Mechanism

September plays pick-up sticks with branches,

goldenrod turns the world upside-down. 

Summer hangs ripe, ready to get it over with; thumbs a ride.

I tell myself I will be fine if there is plenty of fresh air.

Leaves.  Kisses.  

I shut my eyes tight enough to see your face.

Inhale, count to one hundred,

listen to the advice of cicadas. 

Autumn trees drop everything in order to survive.

tk/ September 2014

R.A.D. Stainforth reads ... love the delivery of that last line ... 

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