By Jennifer MacBain-Stephens
A hip and an elbow lay in a cage at the circus: this sounds
like the beginning of a joke but we feel ho hum about it.
I pour beer over the flank, hoping to rouse suspicion from
my state’s politician, hoping to generate some “buzz.” The
elephants serpentine, are scolded for it—the incorrect pattern
emanating from their eyes as old as big bang, their huge square
feet as noble a any suffragette. If I held your trunk in my tail would
we still talk later? My face is not my face because the bedazzler
is in the bathroom. I can’t break up this party. Joints rejoice all over
Allen Wrench euphoria. The animals are determined to catch
something truly evasive: I want to feel toppled. You have elevated
from animal, you are thought. You encapsulate Buddhism. Go in
peace my brother: the fire eater is walking the aisle.
Jennifer MacBain-Stephens is the author of two full length poetry collections (Yellow Chair Press and Stalking Horse Press.) Her chapbook “Dixit: Every Picture Tells a Story, or The Wrong Items,” is forthcoming from White Knuckle Press in 2017 and “She Came Out From Under the Bed, (Poems Inspired by the Films of Guillermo del Toro)” is forthcoming from Dancing Girl Press. This poem, and others, originally appeared in her chapbook, “Clown Machine” (Grey Book Press) Recent work is at Lime Hawk, concis, decomp, and Inter/rupture. Visit: http://jennifermacbainstephens.wordpress.com/.