The Tattooed Man

No one knows where I really came from

or got my love of pain from.

My native tongue

is clearly not exotic.

I often fly into a fearsome rage

and rattle the bars of my Borneo cage

reducing children to shivering bits.

No one who sees me likes it.

I was a castaway

on a ship that was to carry me away

from unspeakable crimes that remain unspoken,

committed on some far more Northern coast than

Borneo. I just liked it so kept it as my own.

It’s generally thought that I’m from France

and my ship wrecked so I took the chance

and disappeared.

I was feared

by the natives I found

so stuck around.

I dined every day on enemy stew

and executed grisly tortures too.

The Tightrope Walker:

So he says. Though no one fully believes him,

they have to admit they can easily see him

doing any of the above.

He doesn't exactly inspire love.

The trapeze artist shudders noticeably.

for what? It's rather hard to see

until she casts a wayward glance

at the Tattooed Man's hands.

At first sight she looks like she might

go suddenly insane.

Then she looks like that again.

and again,

and again.