Wedding Day At The Circus Tent Poem by John W. McEwers

She loved the trapeze
He loved the lion tamers
They both loved fried
carbohydrates.

It was a match made
by a ringleader
in a Barnum and Bailey
heaven
a little too lovely to question.

So I was in a groomsman tuxedo
lined up in front of marching elephants
while jugglers on unicycles
wobbled through the aisles
and fire eaters
spat fireballs over the wedding guests
like a thrown bouquet.

I recall bitterness on my part,
and the peaty acidic air
that clung around the growing perimeter of
elephant dung,
constantly churned and softened
by clumsy feet, the stink of corn and waste
reintroduced with every step.

I wish I had the presence of mind
to smell it
at my own wedding.