Circus of the Impossible
A clown was bargaining with my mother
for my father's life.
He gave me toys
and told me to call him,
'Uncle'.
Thick-lipped, I heard him
claim his kisses could arouse
any woman in a large tent.
Four years old,
so happy to be a part
of this small circus.
The elephant's comforting odor
when my mother was
too busy to buy me
the cotton candy-
so pretty pink.
poem by Marina Gipps
Added by Poetry Lover
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