Sinny ran away from the race the other day
to join the circus: I followed, naturally enough.

Since Sin never cared for pleasing folks,
we were assigned very different roles:

Sinny wore a top hat and handled the chain;
I became the woman of all acts and trades.

While I clowned and crammed into a miniature car
Sinny cracked her whip to get bodies through the door.

Up they rolled, gasping and laughing at our feats
for by then we were both drawn to the trapeze.

Like a cat Sinny swung and made her exit that way:
from bar to net and through the flap of the tent.

The magician I assisted left by his own trapdoor
leaving me standing and holding the sword.

But in the circus, no worries, there’s always someone
to plunge a point into in good wholesome fun.

Kathryn Hummel

 

Kathryn Hummel is the author of Poems from Here (Walleah Press 2014), The Bangalore Set (Kena 2015), The Body That Holds (Little Windows Press 2017), splashback (Stale Objects dePress 2017) and the forthcoming Lamentville (Math Paper Press). Uncollected, her digital media/poetry, non-fiction, fiction and scholarly research has been published/performed/presented worldwide. Her website includes links to recordings of her work.

© 2018