At the farmer’s market a juggler,
Stands behind his upturned hat.
Three balls at first, yellow,
white, green;
Then a fourth, light blue with red
speckles.
A fifth, a sixth, a twelfth – too
many.
Your damnation, whom you are to
meet
Near the cart with the suspect
tomatoes
Tries to get your attention.
A ball suddenly bounces off your
nose
Then back into the unending
circle.
Some one laughs. You buy an apple.
.
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