Circus — K.Hunt

Once there was one
Just one little bun
(for estrogen)
Girded in long silk stockings
And a leatherette garter
Smiled her comely smile
Into the mirror
(which bent the frame on both sides)
Pulled her rack up one more hitch
Went to the brook
Where the dry grass collects
Tucked some into her push-up holsters

Set out across the meadow
Swinging it from side to side like a bull does a cowboy
When things are going his way
Pulling in every direction at the hearts of all who saw that shimmering walk
Bun took them along – the goats, the mice, the jealous, chittering hens, and the cocks
All of them following that trail as far as they could find it in the moonlight
A ringing shot through the woodlands

Beneath the pink folds
(neon marking Madame Ovarie’s tavern)
She took her favourite table
Not as a coquette
But as a host welcoming all comers
Pushed aside the spades and the hoes to make room
Shoving the dusty boxes of stumping powder
Grappling hooks and halters off the table
Parting her fur in the reflection between the bottles
Made way for the feast

A feast on polished ebony
Feeling a proper jewel in the warm breeze