I Loved Wonderful

The teacup-elephants are on parade again,
weaving drunkenly through town
because the ringmaster puts beer in their peanuts;
they trample toothpicks and plastic grocery bags,
trumpeting music-box tunes, off-key and off-rhythm,
trunks clutching tails
in a quivering congo line.
Nina Miller, her cat sweatshirt clashing
with her crossing-guard vest and hat,
races to scatter traffic from their path,
her ponytail bobbing as she scolds careless drivers
with pursed lips and a shaking forefinger.

Danny and I are eating ice cream cones
as we walk down Sycamore,
chins sticky with our respective flavors
because neither of us wants to stop holding hands
long enough to use a napkin.
He rubs his thumb across my palm
and I shiver, licking my lips
against the sudden, sweet dryness in my throat.
One elephant weaves its way toward the gutter;
I unwrap my hand just long enough to nudge it to safety.

Feral parrots swoop at the elephants,
pecking at their ears and tweaking their tails,
singing old jazz tunes in French
as they perform aerial cartwheels.
Nina cries out, herding the elephants with one hand
and shooing the birds with the other.
A few of the skateboarding teenagers
abandon their tricks and join her,
whistling and shaking their hoodies
at the gaudy-feathered hooligans.

The elephants, bleeding, drunk, and confused,
panic at the noise and stampede,
tossing their heads and trumpeting,
shoving everyone aside as they gallop back toward the circus.
I see Humbert, the Fortune-Telling Elephant—
an old bull with three spots on his ear,
a penchant for cookies offered by curious six-year-olds,
and a talent for shuffling Tarot cards.
I pat his back as he lumbers past,
his spots faded but still visible
against the multiplied wrinkles.
Nina runs after the herd,
alternating between shouting at them to stop
and pondering aloud what punishment
she’s going to wreak on the ringmaster.

I grin and lick my melting cone.
Danny laughs and shakes his head.
“Man, I’ll be glad when we move.”
He runs his thumb over my hand again.
“Can you imagine raising a kid
among all this nonsense?”

I look at him.
He smiles and leans for a kiss.
Shivering, I pull my hand from his,
my throat a different kind of dry.
I shake my head and stare.
Confused, he blinks a few times,
the ice cream falling from his grip.
“Sweetie?” he says,
voice rising in volume and pitch.
I shake my head again,
turn on my heel, and walk away.

It’s half-price admission at the circus today,
and the mermaids always put on a good show.