What He Is Trying To Say Poem by Grant House

Sometimes
when I get in a rush,
I feel
like the popular
but absent-minded
six foot seven
newlywed
juggler
who,
with slurred speech
caused by a painful swollen lip
from an accident he had last night,
sells tickets
for his sideshow
at the circus
for 90 cents.

He had just married
a beautiful young woman
from a family
in which everyone,
men and women,
are small.
An odd couple for sure.

During their brief courtship,
some in the circus thought
they were just another silly act,
but they were truly in love,
at least as much as could be expected
with a couple who met
four days ago
and who were married
yesterday.

They had only seen
each other's headshot
before they met.
They were both amazed
at what they saw
when they first encountered
one another
in person.

It goes without saying
they had never been intimate
before their wedding night
which, as you now know,
was just last night.

Arrangements for the wedding
had been rushed
to put it mildly.
Now, in the midst
of all the hubbub,
and after an evening
and long night
filled with all sorts of surprises
and one almost serious
miscalculation that resulted
in his swollen lip,
he realizes
he has forgotten
to get change.

Everyone gives up a dollar
to see him perform
and those bright orange tickets are,
after all,
just 90 cents.

The show is soon to begin.
The line grows longer. 
People are getting impatient.

Long legs flying out in front of him,
dressed in his juggler's costume
and hat,
a cross between a clown
and an NBA all star,
he sprints in his floppy shoes to
the bank to get change
for his tiny ticket booth.

He rushes in and sees
every teller
is busy.
The bank lobby
is packed.
His wedding night trauma
and his desperate need
to get back
to his long line
of rowdy patrons
crashes in on him.
The last straw breaks
the juggling camel's back.

In a hurricane of emotion
he blurts out
in exasperation
and in a very unusual accent
manufactured by
his throbbing lip,
"Wife is short!
Too little dime! "

The bank gets quiet.

There he stands,
towering above the crowd
waiting to make their deposits
and cash their checks.

Suddenly,
a mom of three teenage boys says,
I know, I know.
Tears stream down.
She hugs one of his long
dangling legs.
A harried delivery guy
with packages
stacked head high
on a cart says,
"You got that right mister."
The bank manager,
already inexcusably late
for the VP's luncheon
pushes through
to the gangly character
and shakes his hand.
"You speak for us all, "
she says in an unexpectedly
calm voice.
She gently guides him
to the front of the line
to teller number one
who looks up
and breaks into a smile
for the first time that day.

"Wife is short.
Too little dime, "
explains the juggler
painfully
to the teller.

"I understand sir.
I know exactly
what you are trying
to say."