Kitty and Susan go to the Circus

May 17, 2013

Isn’t it always the heart that wants to wash the elephant…?
—Barbara Ras, Washing the Elephant

True. But it’s always the eyes in the distance
that reveal the elegance of the elephant’s
little kitten, Susan. Of course, for you and Kitty,
this glance behind the scenes is breathtaking.
All bets are off: time itself might be
a tiny kitten batting a ball of string
on a surface of infinite circles.
For the elephants, though,
it could be either Pakistan or India—
or the Midtown Tunnel on the night
the circus walks into the Big Apple.
The noise is always deafening, and the smell, well…
elephants defecating inside that long tunnel!
Even the clowns seem to frown at the seepage.
You’d think your average elephant, washed,
caparisoned, pampered beyond belief,
would have enough sense  to use a kitty litter.
It’s Dr. Seuss more candidly as an elephant, Susan.
O, the elegance! O, the parade! O, the odor!
Hold your nose and enter where
the, ‘Children of all Ages’ sign used to be.
They should wear pants when they dance, Kitty.
They should be diapered and reserved, Susan,
rectitude itself, not this display of sewage.
O, the stench of the internal elephant!
How marginal it is! How hungry they are!

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