Fortune

The smooth paunch on "Das Klein Gluck"
(some day we'll all eat beautifully)
is repeated in the sphere she uses here
as a pedestal and her eyes, which are blind.
One foot hangs oddly but her cane is as tall
as air, her hair's adroitly puffed to match
her herb, eryngium, whose name means
"lucky in love" though when I saw her last,
thighs bunching from an outsized thong
as she two-stepped a ball down a slender ramp,
she could see everything: we who hooted
and clapped, her spangled father's sham despair
and, two acts past intermission, herself
dangling over the world by impossible hair.