Letter After the Circus
And I think right now we are all
torturing each other. Daring Young Men on the Flying Trapeze.
Gentle Ponies. High Wire Daredevil. With such magnificence
in the world, it seems I would begin to believe something else.
Wind. Rain. All descriptions are masks. Sirens, right now,
screech through the air of this house. The gentle ponies were not
gentle at all.