Today's poem is by James Haug

Root Beer

We found new combinations of interiors.
There was a painted door on the plains,
And a keyhole, and what we saw
Was a fraction of what we suspected
Could be found there. Some kind of floral
Wallpaper covered everything. Brown water-
Stains neatly suggested clouds resembling
Segments of a traveling circus. I'm told
I saw a flea circus once, though I did not
Actually see it, and now I have a disturbing
Tendency to believe everything I hear.
When I head on home and repeat the facts,
My folks get fed up and send me out
Into the yard. I'm standing out there now
With a pitchfork, trying to snag a low-
Flying stormcloud that looks like Tolstoy,
Fluffier than I remember him. I see
Lightning hits near Jackson. My folks shake
Their heads watching me from the kitchen.
Clouds swooping lower. Here comes that
Circus, big cages on wheels, rumbling cumulo-
Nimbus, which with my pitchfork I'll hook on
And swing aboard. Here I go, Celeste.

Copyright © 2007 James Haug All rights reserved
from A Plan of How to Catch Amanda
Factory Hollow Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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