(working for a bankrupt circus)

                                                            after David Berman

Working for a bankrupt circus on the wrong

end of a Saturday night, and I want to be like water

if I can. I want to find the quietest

and easiest way out.

I want to be frozen and move like a glacier,

I want to be turned to gas and join the clouds.

Instead of cleaning up the elephant shit,

I want to be an elephant.

I want to be a tiger.

I want an old man to stick his crooked finger in the air

and then point to me and wonder how.

Water knows no end, like love's ridiculous gestures.

I want to be the ten foot wave that knocks you down

and steals your breath.

I want to be the drip

from your faucet that keeps you an insomniac.

I want to be that pop in your ear,

that then runs down your canal.

I want to keep your whiskey cold.

I want you to soak your feet in me.

Tonight, I got lost making cotton candy.

What spun was bigger than a snowman.

I want you to be that sugar

that dissolves in my mouth.