Joseph Trombatore		In Bed Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, 1893 They dream of canoes resting in a rippled lake A billow of sheets feather pillows comforter They are like vines under shade trees A forest of birds just before a storm The waters rock them in blue & green cradles The edge of everything begins & ends in bed		Fuck the Circus (for Clarence) Thick with sawdust & sequins this place of tents & tight wires clowns paint their face like cooled cupcakes this season's Siamese Twins are arrayed in cotton candy the Bearded Lady is stroking something dark greasy seals balance balls skillful as bees with pollen men in tights run about like ants before a storm elephants break wind dogs are in ballerina drag the Strong Man grins, rubs the wet spot on his crotch the heavy breath of lions seek the scent of fresh meat & The Ringmaster revels in his whistle fetish...