There’s a tent where the road dead ends:
elephants blow peanut dust into
bewildered children’s hair and acrobats
swing at unnetted heights as a tutued
bear juggles mangoes on a unicycle.
Flossing my teeth with twirl spun
sugar, it seems magic I don’t want
to drive my car into that tree anymore.
I find it sweet. Mom says I need
therapy and I splice her
commas with plums, lace the tool
that already plates my words small
with hope I leak sufficient juice to
distill & boil & boil & boil until
there’s enough in my mouth for rock
candy. Then, driving, I can suck
down the drear I catch doe eyed
in my headlights with a bit more gumption
and reroute my sadness to that
somewhere positive. How often I visit
this circus speaks to the forest.
When I reach the dead
end, I will peek past that
tacked down curtain, find the bear
dripping golden fruit onto its tongue,
stealing mangoes from the sky, hunger
so enticing she inhales any sun.
Madeleine Corley is a writer by internal monologue. She most identifies with Bow in She-Ra and The Princesses of Power. Currently, she serves as Poetry Editor at Barren Magazine. You can find her @madelinksi on Twitter and at her website wrotemadeleine.com.