more oft than not
playing the part
of a barker
in a circus tent
rigged with lollipop poles
up-holding a canvas of
princess pink
spreading my arms
hoping to distract the few
at a show
with but one attraction
the Man ruled
a schedule be kept to
behold the coveted
prize
saturdays and sunday afternoons
are good
how about a longer show
for wednesday nights?
regardless the toll
it takes
on the precious thing
how tired she has become
one ticket?
or two?
what price is perfect
for this once bundle of joy?
all the care is
left to us
the raising and the
feeding and discipline
so that the thankless show-goers and
their vicious, well-fed
bar dogs can lap
up a win
i can shout
to the tops of
the tent poles
and no one will hear
my voice muted
by the applause of
the ignorant
crowd
clowns all
who brought with
them their own
cold cage
to take from me
the one thing
i was forced to lead
into this ring
i'm just a barker
now, that's all
made hoarse
for all that fruitless yelling
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