the circus is in town

gazing in the mirror,
you scoop up a gob
of greasepaint,
smearing it all over
your face,
adding the candyred
gumdrop nose,
dabbing multicolored
stars and moons
on your cheeks;

you pull on
the polka dotted suit
the baggy sleeves
stuffed with grace,
sticking the seltzer bottle
filled with living water
in your back pocket;

you pull on your
three-times-too-big
scuffed shoes
and squeeze uncomfortably
into the kiddie car
disguised as a
firetruck;

waving and honking
the big-bulbed horn
you drive through
our lives,
calling out:
'wanna see Jesus?
. . . follow me!'

(c) 2009 Thom M. Shuman