I sell for a living.
But not the kind of selling
you do at the supermarket
and not the kind you do on the net
but the kind where I give parts of me
to strangers I will never again see.

Strangers like the boy with the pretty eyes
and the woman shedding tears
and the gentleman with many stories.

I give away the parts of me
I think will make others smile
an ear for you sir
and a part of my heart to you madamme
would you like a hand? a dimple?
Let me know because I give it all
and when you leave
don't say goodbye,
let me believe
and dream that one day we will meet again
and you will give those parts back
so I can be whole once again
for the one who would have cared

My big red nose... shoes three sizes big ....I
calliope in amidst the din.
with my chin high,
to where the women wear Dior and Gems.
The men are all ten feet tall and more.
Yet. I fit in.
I like these politicians, trip eloquently on my tongue,
stumble headlong into ice carved pictures of my thing,
I have red ears, wet eyes, say I did not mean it, when the media is around,
just the same.
I fit in.
I go home with Madamme,
treat her to tricks, while
her Daddy Warbucks,
goes  out with strippers.

The tarot pack holds me back as
I reveal yet one more card.


And from the Major Arcana
I have drawn the magician,
the hermit
the lovers
and
the wheel of fortune,

I could, given time
figure out the meaning
alternatively,
wait
for Madamme
to be rid of her cold.

I cannot be the Phoenician
I do fear death by drowning,
she calms me
with
****** and sweet tea.

We are the cornucopia
the thought that
where there's life in ya
there's always hope for ya

I pray this is so.