Very rarely am I a fan of poetry

From the New Yorker this week:

ONE-MAN CIRCUS

Juggler of hats and live hand grenades.

Tumbler, contortionist, impersonator,

Living statue, wire walker, escape artist,

Amateur ventriloquist and mind reader.

Doing all that without being detected

While leisurely strolling down the street,

buying a newspaper on some corner,

Bending down to pat a blind man's dog,

Or sitting across from your wife at dinner,

While she prattles about the weather,

Concentrating instead on a trapeze in your head,

The tigers pacing angrily in their cage.

- Charles Simic