With what contortions do I twist and shrink?
With what deliberations analyze
the glut of dissolutions handed down,
and why? Abusing self by what I think,
then crafting words for you to sympathize
is such a tedium, when I could clown,
enjoy with incremental aptitude
the truth beyond decrepit lies of age.
Surrounded by enablers, we all choose
which face to show, the grin or grimace crude,
which view to face, the wall or unwrit page.
This acrobatic editing of news
I toss in favour of the new and bold,
astonishing and joyful to behold.
© Elaine Stirling, 2014
Image of clowns from http://www.prom-pom.com