The Intramural Circus

The closet door
to the human rind
to the vessels and veins
to the heart
to the tent
in there made of
everything you...
where the somersault
Queen is exciting
and the rope is
the balance
and kiting
mettle.
Circus and the
halo of flame
in the centre
in the constant
beat of a dance
and the juggle of
coloured balls
that we drop
and pick up to
try again with.
To the unicycle troupe
running rings like saturn
round the scene
and building a shape
made of us and trust.
Circus in the right ventricle
circus in the left.
Right to the treetop lungs
in suspense with trapeze swings
that clinch joyful flight seekers.
Left to the everywhere laughing clowns
circulating lolling beams
on a ruby sea
that burst from
here til Sunday
Upon elastic lips.