Under the billowing Big Top of my life, am I the Ringmaster, the Clown ... or just the guy who gets fired from the cannon? This startlingly original collection of poems runs the gamut from joy to despair and all ports in between. Shudder at the bleak and futuristic "Manifesto of the Machines", described by the Magic Oxygen Literary Prize as 'thunderously chilling' and 'horribly credible' with 'a glorious steady pulse of iambic pentameter running though...