Save the Poet

i found her somewhere in Indiana
nowhere in particular really
doing a slow ride on a long trapeze
on the side of an empty road

i sat bemused in a folding lawnchair
next to her lesbian friend
i think the entire gang was queer
to some degree
or to every degree
whatever

some would pass by carefully
getting a good long look
at the faggot on the high ropes

some would stop by briefly
but just to get going
in the other direction

there was a fair down the road
and the barker was to
direct traffic to the show

somehow he got it wrong
which was just as well

it seemed odd to me
that in such a small town
with really nothing to keep track of

that the one place
lit up in the darkness
and lined with sequins
was lost on all but myself

i suppose in the country
the bright lights are left for the moths
and the cocky and daring
and the ego

the amazing endless egos of small children
hoping one day to become adults

without ever learning to see
save the blind

or walk
save the legless

or hear
save the deaf

or talk
save the mute

or write
save the scientist

or achieve
save the poet