This wickedly sly poem is by Charles Simic.
One-Man Circus
Juggler of hats and live hand grenades,
Tumbler, contortionist, impersonator,
Living statue, wire walker, escape artist,
Amateur ventriloquist and mind reader,
Doing all that without being detected
While leisurely strolling down the street,
Buying a newsaper on some corner,
Bending down to pat a blind man's dog,
Or sitting across from your wife at dinner,
While she prattles about the weather,
Concentrating instead on a trapeze in your head,
The tigers pacing angrily in their cage.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
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8 comments:
The great aerialist, body poised,
In perfect rotation, diving down,
Sixty feet into his own navel,
before a hushed, blindfolded audiance.
C.I.A.? Delusional guy? Con man? Murderer? The guy next door? Phew! Some poem. Read it 6 times.
Cool response Alon!
/Toonces: What about "typical" middle-aged, quasi-Willy Lomanish, quasi Walter Mittyish, unhappily married man?
Oh yes - that definitely fits!
See how much fun poems are, like working a 1,000 piece puzzle.
I agree - they are fun! I wish more people would spend the time reading them. I wonder if we are getting back to brief, succinct messages in a roundabout way with all the messaging and tweeting going on? Granted, most does not get written artfully, but at least it is going in a direction of concentrated thought.
can someone tell me what this is about? i am so lost!
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