Moon Box (1974)

The moon box

shuttered and perched so high

Inaccessible to most

vertigo for the timid.

The barker snaps

a spine to the rubber man

Or the fire eater

But not the virgin

In the moon box above

Bones on the sill

a few who beat the vertigo

but wilted with the snow

From the curtain rod

I see myself.

The timber wolf,

baring his teeth from

the rungs, I leap and pull

my feet from the barker.

Climbing now.