top of page

THE CIRCUS

By Ells

ree

It's her,

The dancing monkey-

Clutching rusted tamberines,

From when she performs her suppositions

On bruising, red knees-

She says:

Mother dear,

Have I done enough?

Dear girl, she says-

Feed us with paper skin-

They love you best

When you are sore.


 
 

© Copyright Dark Poets Club

bottom of page