My love works the midnight shift
at the old folks home for acrobats.
Sometimes two or three performances an evening,
there’s little sleep at their age.
There goes Hank, righting himself
in a fit of passion, now Mabel
preparing to take the big leap
into a youthful inexperience.
If they fall, my love is there
to catch them. Catch me, they say,
and my love tells them
they’re already in bed. Catch me, they say,
and my love tells them to go to sleep.
Wistfully, Sterling passed today
having lost his balance
through an ironic bearing of bad news
while my love was helping Ruby
somersault through an unparalleled rite of passage.
She knows he’s better off and that
tomorrow a new acrobat will arrive.
Catch me, they’ll say. Catch me.




Donavon’s work was recently short listed for the erbacce-prize from erbacce-press.  His poems have appeared, or are forthcoming, in: Moria, Identity Theory, ditch, FRiGG, Thirteen Myna Birds, Spork, Softblow, Juked, Pedestal, MiPOesias, Anti-, Stirring, and many others.

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