I teeterI totterRocking side to side with nervous energyEasing the swollen joints that shout my ageSeven decades jugglingPerforming tricks for lord and fool alikeKeeping all the vagaries of life suspendedTo the wonderment of all who care to seeA circle in a tent in a fieldJust beyond the poorest part of townWhere life is cheaper than breakfastAnd far easier to steal awayLions roar and tigers scowlHorses click their hooves in harmonyAnd cruel men raise their whipsAt beast and child alikeCall me HarlequinI have a thousand woven suitsColored for each season For wedding and funeral alikeWhat you see is what you getNothing more but sometimes lessDepending if the creeping hungerNeeds make a turn into a dishAre you a clown?The sniveling children askSet to make us laugh aloudUntil we split our sides.Choose axe, garrote, or ropeI rhetorically respondJust loud enough to make their breeches wetThen watch them flee into the shadows