Solo Circus

[Kynaston Levitt]

Solo Circus

The days linger
in a contest of thoughts
wanting out 
wanting back in.

I choke on small talk.

Vultures circle about
whose last acts of compassion
make love to the skies.

Yoked to a cross
I climb up to the trapeze.

This is my sentence
this is my prize.

Thank you for posting this in Misc. because I am not obliged to say anything more than, this is excellent.