Big Top

As a child, I saw
just one circus, a show whipped
by snaking roads and

tired of carrying
itself between towns like ours.
The ringmaster roared

with boredom, his voice
ripped from rotten canvas. As
his wife—stuffed in sequins—

prepared to climb an
elephant, he pulled her stool
too soon. She fell and

broke her leg. The show ended—
her sharp cry so real.