The Contortionist

art by Molly Crabapple

I’m tired of the jokes people make

about not getting bent out of shape.

You wouldn’t believe the questions –

I keep people guessing.

I’m here because I don’t want a normal life;

that and because of the Knife Thrower,

there was an incident

or two, or maybe three.

I was far from innocent, you see.

And I didn’t want a normal life.

I had beautiful, long, Rapunzel-like hair;

like Lady Godiva, it’d be all I’d wear

sometimes. It made my act attract

more attention than I could stand.

There was a man

or two or maybe three.

One night, finally,

I’d had it. I blamed

above all else my glorious mane

for causing me such heartache and woe.

So…

I cut it all off while the tightrope walker walked

over head.

That night I’d wished I were dead.

I’d had my heart broken for the 100th time.

Most suspected the Midway Boss undermined

the whole affair.

Whatever the case, it undermined my hair.

I pretend and grin and then

I pretend to grin again.