Keeping Up the Act

I played at the world’s largest theater
With an old woman who insists
Her stuffed pet is still alive.

“Say goodbye to little Wynona,” she says,
Even after we’ve all gone.
My act is accordion – accordion to the critics

I’m no good. I begin with a drum roll.
Then the crowd laughs at my attire,
And I stumble around going through the motions

Of daily life – washing the ceiling,
Cutting the rug, polishing the two-way mirror.
I end on a musical number: eighty-eight.

I’m buried in applause and covered in flowers.
As for the old woman, she knits in the corner
Not saying a word. In the evening she closes

The curtains. She strokes her stuffed pets,
Feeds them saltines. There’s little Wynona wagging her tail.
Funny, that’s my name too.