Gentlemen –
come closer . . .
peer into this black
box standing on three
legs,
I’ll cover my head.
All of you wear hats
wide brim – top –
shadows on faces.
Let me
center you behind
my traveling curtain.
Men yank on those
suspenders, wrap arms
behind straight backs –
Most of you stout –
fat bellies bursting
white buttons sewn to
a neatly pressed cotton
shirt
Observers stare from
curbstones – heads tilted,
bewildered by my curtain.
Only a black hooded man
flashing frowns of memory
on faces –
hearing laughter on the
street.