Women made-up for a man’s dream
stacked themselves with forearms trembling.
Men flaunted lines that we love to trace,
then wheeling and throwing fast
in fearful cycles.
We saw the sweat trickling down his back
as he ached to balance branches of palm:
pendulums swaying in sweet counterpoise.
He looked wistfully at his creation
before throwing mystery away
with one puff.
I watched a birth that night
saw muscle and mind forced forward
shuttling me back to the beginning.
What made me write this? Last night I saw Spiegelworld’s EMPIRE show inside their antique Spiegeltent.