Poems on Performance – Circus poem 4. Fellini
Circus poem 4: Fellini
my tongue unfurls ‘Fellini’
watched at an impressionable age;
Your Women ring
in my ears like coiffured charms
to guide, through black and white forests
(home to Jung and
Sixties circus music).
Thank you for the Archetypes.
They swarm now…
mosquito-muses biting arms
when I fall/ replicate: Benign Mother, Ravenous Mistress,
Lovely Innocent – ‘Pa-o-la’ or ‘Clou-di-a’
rising, white from antique ruins
are belles on high branches now…
chiming Juliet of the Spirits:
‘ remember…remember which…
Remember Witch!…Who you?… who you were
born. To be…come… be/come.’
This path, shot in black/ivory
contrast is too much truth
defined as their couture bodies
cut by the shutter,
style overrides feeling matter.
Symbols replace guttural pain.
Sex is wit, no more, no less… if
costumed in black-tie, pouring champagne
down your silk as fountains of absinth
- EXTERIOR. STATUE. NATIONAL MONUMENT.
Tiptoeing the kitchen-sink –
Britain – blight
and might of Channel Four
jingles in crowded
common rooms, festivals
singing sex in foreign fields,
‘Il Maestro’s’ double note
‘Madonna … Madonna/whore…