It was a thin wire
Spindly thin
And she walked on it
Carefully fast
With her pink clown shoes
As she tried to keep
Her diminishing locks
From prying into her eye
So, with her tired arms
And bony fingers
She wobbled
The deadly waltz
With a sly hoop
Dancing on her neck
And twisting into her hair
The hall gasped
As she spun
And almost slipped off
Unexpectedly
But the greased line
A loving mother
Kept her bleeding heels
Steadily sloped
“It would be a miracle if she made it”
they whispered
in between their thin mints
and garlic popcorn
Two tickets for a dollar
We bought tampons for more
Metamorphosis 