This month I have put together the second collection of stories in the Hagiography series.

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One of the pieces in the collection, Grace, has been developed from my interest in women pioneers of circus.

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The poem Mercurial was written in 2018 and is included in Women Who Dare, a series of seven poems and five prints.

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Grace expands the same ideas into a prose narrative.

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14.3.20

write-now

Mercurial

On the fine linen of my skin

I invent myself

In intricate ink;

Serpents slip around my breast,

A lioness strides my chest and

In my arms rest 

Birds of paradise.  

I play the crowds like a concert pianist

Timing my turns with grace,

With ease, I catch the flying trapeze

Keep you in thrall, watching me -

One blink from a fall -

Leap for my life and turn thrice 

In the air.

Like a magpie I’ve stolen the show,

Hold the ring in my iron jaw,

Pivot in pinwheels 

(My stellar stunt).

You count with me – one, two, three -

I can shoulder a century 

Or more.

I tread the boards 

Contortionist extraordinaire 

I shift my shape (I wouldn’t fit);

I’m a free-falling freak

The vaudeville doyenne 

Singular corps

Trompe l’oeil act.

Now draw back the curtain, dare 

To discover my dislocation, my weeping wounds;

I’m a hellcat, a spitfire,

The mistress of tantrums,

I hire and I fire and I stamp my commands.

A volcano of pain 

I endure.

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