In Boulder, Missoula, Santa Fe —
not Shiloh, Duluth, Butte, Dubuque —
mimes blow up clear balloons,
draw back bows, take aim,
let feral boomerang arrows go,
belly-crawl out whitewashed holes,
fall three floors, mouth screams to crowd,
become carpool-tunnel-syndrome clowns
driving up imagined waterfalls, not down.
Mimes abandoned in darkened towns
pray alone in some strip-mall church
then plunge to death off a pew-side curb.