Fun Punch by Carla Barger

Camila Pastorelli


Fun Punch

We’d done the act for years.
Our big clown shoes slapped dust
round the ring as
you chased me with a fire hose.
A finely tuned orchestra,
I’d turn on the final beat
and land you a playful
sock to the kisser.

We called it “Fun Punch”
but the fat lady warned us of
the dangers of routine.
It was great, she said,
but eventually I came to want
more substance.
She stared wistfully at
a photo of the thin man
who’d left her in order to
sell insurance in Hoboken.

Later we lay in my trailer.
You hung your funny trousers
over the bedpost.
I swallowed hard,
a blue balloon rising
in my throat as
your fingers inched toward me.
I traced the Jersey Turnpike
in the air with mine.

​

Bio: Carla Barger is a writer and freelance editor. She grew up riding horses in vast open fields and has never quite gotten used to living in cities, which makes her wonder regularly why she continues to do so. Her work has appeared in several literary journals, photography books, art gallery catalogs, and elsewhere. She holds an MFA in Writing from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. Visit her website at https://carlabarger.wordpress.com.

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