Sometimes the apt metaphor rides slow trains
but today she arrived: I’m the rodeo clown
distracting hyped-up creatures with long horns,
enough to laugh. In kafkaesque humor I’m shown
what happens around dissertation defenses.
My role in the academy’s carnival is to feint
pent-up fury, cynical desperation, life unspent–
of others, I think; but I’d rather ride dressage
alone on Leg’cy. She spooks at nothing
I can see; so I wonder at what’s real, real enough
to die for, and I don’t believe it’s rodeo clowning.