Red Nosed Circus
by Odin Roark

Under the big top
They contort, impersonate, tumble,
Wire walk, trapeze flip and juggle hats.
How clever cheer the gullible,
That audience of thirsty throats
Impatient for bloodletting,
The finale promise of every performance,
When lions are whipped into frenzy,
Causing patrons to shout for blood,
Any blood,
Caring not from whom,
Doubting never they’re right.

Such antics these,
Thriving on hostile billboard delusions,
Even as a 5 week break finds them kissing babies,
Petting dogs, glad-handing admission donors,
Grabbing photo-ops of deceit,.
All the while believing detection-proof is forever.

Truthful headlines are never subtle.
Beware the 80 point type, “Lions Escape,”
For the growls defying their captor’s lies
Is anger to be reckoned with.

Before returning to the bright lights,
Leaving behind leisure lounging at poolside,
Ice cubes melting in lead cut crystal
Know diluted bourbon portends what’s ahead.
That stepping back into center ring
May be hazardous venturing.

The lions are waiting.
Back into the cages,
Not an option.