THE CIRCUS
- Dark Poets Club

- Sep 11
- 1 min read
By Ells

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.



