Ringmaster

Ringmaster

 

The Circus is there

The lines are drawn in the sand

The circle of dust and colors and blood

The chains of performance

 

The Circus is here

A prod in the back with a shocking stick if the elephants

Or the checkbooks

Don’t balance correctly

 

The Circus is them

The smiles of children under a big red tent

Colorful costumes

Colorful light

Nothing looks quite right

The weighted doves of thought take flight

The crowd gasps as their breath is taken away And sold

 

The Circus is blind

The rainbow prism of the tear drops of tigers backlight back a ring of fire

The stripes and burns on the back of those who work and roar for none to hear

Caged in a cart on a journey

Across the land of the free and the home of the behaved

Biding his time for a chance to start and lose a war.

 

The Circus is alive

Crackerjacks and peanuts are all thrown in the elephant’s face

We laugh, but don’t

There is a thought we are all thinking

And the elephant is actually in the room

His name is Dumbo

He has huge ears and hears every word they say

And cannot speak a word

But one day he will fly

 

 

 

The Circus is dead

The tent is just a place

A giant piece of cloth

A parachute that pushes us down

Instead of softening the landing

 

The Circus is Beautiful

There is everything to catch the eye

And everything to strip them dry

The song of the carnie swindler

A hired hand with his hand in the cookie jar

Who cries like an unrepentant child if he is caught

 

The Circus is America

The Circus is Sin

Have you met the Red Ringmaster and his mustache that curls into horns?