The acrobat on the rosinback circled the track
thrice, then threw her a kiss.
She could see how well he’d been taught.
He still practiced, he said,
in order to better deserve his burnished fate.
You are rehearsing for what
play part? she asked. The doll’s house
gleamed in the small room until the lights were turned off.
Then sweet sweet sleep and the street-
lamp gave up a glimpse of a carnival larger than life.
The carousel’s rotal motion took on speed, then halted.
The lights were turned off. Someone was herding
the bumper cars into the stream,
eyes bright in their fendered faces.
The day was dry. The eyes were locked
in their neat little coffins. The mind was struck
by needlespray. A cool soon (someone was speaking).
A change of clothes? the dream master asked.
. . .
Yes. She would be a blue new, the terrain of now,
a nice never waiting, one destined
for pleasure in that place between a small pinch of dusk
and the hey diddle diddle of dawn.
The kiss arrived just in time.
A breeze blew a window open on a distant afternoon.