Raw Goods

circus aficionados burn clothes

circus aficionados burn clothes, and
what difference does it make? except in
those hollow, holy moments where
'excuse me' becomes a prayer?

here we go, in a land of work, this
anthology of invitations to sing while
several images become memory

against a backdrop of religion, we
however uncertain or unstable, persist
in silent essays of evil dealings

or 'refer me to your lawyer' for merry
duels in edmonton, now re-enacted,
now discarded. a play-house of lies:
we insist on irrelevance, or not.

posted by judy j @ 11:36 AM