Manny The Mime Poem by Antonia Nasi

Manny the Mime lurks 'round Central Park,
Waiting for joggers who run after dark.

He draws on a smile,
And paints on a tear,
Then hovers below the Old Chelsea Pier.

In daytime he acts for all passersby,
Pretending he's trapped in a box in the sky.

A tightrope he walks for children galore,
And even performs at your local bookstore.

What happens at night these children don't see...
The horror begins at a quarter past three!

His smile turns black,
His tear turns to blood,
His footsteps are heard...
Sloshing slowly through mud.

He draws on his gloves,
And pulls down his mask,
His only concern...
This bloodcurdling task.

And as the sun surely rises,
With grace and with ease,
Manny stands stealthily quiet....
Amid the bristling of leaves.